Order
by disturbedkiwi
Summary: A wizard from Unseen University's past finds himself brought forward in time to an Ankh Morpork that is no longer familiar to him.
1. Chapter 1

This is the Discworld. A massive wheel of earth carried through the recesses of space on the back of four equally massive elephants who are in turn standing upon a turtle so big that massive becomes a diminutive description. It is a sight that cannot fail to impress, especially when the light of the setting sun spreads out into a halo around the miraculous assemblage. Unfortunately most people in a position to truly appreciate the full splendour of the Disc are generally more worried about other matters, such as oxygen and its surprising lack of existence in their vicinity.

A world this wondrous, the more focussed of those fortunate few tell themselves, must surely be home to still more magnificent beings, heroes and gods, demons and evil sorcerers. This world must be in constant peril, ever riding the thin line between destruction and glory.

At some other time they may have even been right.

----

A storm was boiling across the plains to Ankh-Morpork. On a rise overlooking the city a man sat on his horse, watching the dark clouds tumble closer. As they raced overhead the wind rose to a howl and he had to grab on to the brim of his pointy hat for fear of losing it. The wind tossed his riding cloak around in him in dramatic curls. Lightning darted across the clouds just so, causing a glow to appear around him from the right angles. Sensing conditions were right for a Pose; Vord flung one hand out and spread his fingers, pulling his face into an expression of fury. Vord's horse Pansy rather spoiled the effect by leaning over to graze on a low bush as the rain finally broke over them.

Water dripping from the wide brim of his pointy hat, Vord lifted his staff out of its holster behind the saddle. Ah well, best save this for a more suitable time he thought. With his free hand he made a small gesture while he murmured something indistinct. Instantly his cloak fell heavily to his sides even though the wind still roared past. And this rain is horrible. He frowned and held his staff out horizontally in front of him. The rain began to strike an invisible wall two feet from his head, surrounding Vord and his mount in a bubble of raindrops. Vord put away his staff and took up Pansy's reins.

As Pansy picked his way slowly down the muddy road, Vord looked at the storm clouds circling in the sky over Ankh-Morpork. Even as he watched the clouds covered over the last patch of blue directly above the city, shrouding the greasy buildings in an early twilight. A single bolt of lightning reached across the gap between the ground and the clouds. It was difficult to tell from this distance, but Vord thought it appeared to strike near Unseen University.

A blue flash grew from the point the lightning struck and blinded Vord for a moment. He pulled on Pansy's reins, waiting for his sight to return before continuing. As it did, very slowly, he thought he saw a figure in a grey robe hovering in the air in front of him. It turned to him and the empty cowl seemed to say 'Oops.' By the time Vord was sure his vision had returned the robe had vanished.

----

Storm clouds still filled the sky but the rain had stopped. The clouds thinned and blew away while Vord rode down to the city. By the time twilight returned naturally the stars were visible in the clear sky. Vord was studying them as he rode through the outskirts of the city, those small buildings that clustered near the walls of the city proper for warmth. Something about the stars seemed off, but Vord couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what was wrong. It had something to do with the constellation Squeak the Frightened Mouse. Wasn't it supposed to be closer to the Tomcat? Astronomy certainly wasn't his field but still.

'Ho there sir! Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?' the voice rose out of the gloom beside the city gates. Great, thought Vord, the bloody night watch were actually manning their posts tonight. Now, how much was it. Vord rummaged in his sleeves for his money pouch. The guards who stepped up to him, one taking Pansy's reins the other taking out a notebook and a pencil, were clean shaven and their armour brightly polished, if a little buckled.

'I'm sorry but are you two from the day watch?' Vord asked. Day watch bribes were higher and he only had small change on him.  
'No sir, city watch,' said the guard with the note book as he flicked to a fresh page. 'Now, about these questions?'  
'Ask away,' said Vord. He left his pouch in his sleeve and sat back in the saddle. "City Watch" indeed. These day watchmen get surer of themselves every time they get a shiny new stripe for their uniform. Vord was surprised they didn't have matching white feather plumes. He was going to need more than a bribe to get past these gits. He glanced at the guard holding his reins, who smiled and tipped his helmet at Vord.

'We've been having a bit of a ruckus today,' said the first guard. 'There was a disturbance near the clockmakers guild and the art museum was spontaneously vandalised...'  
'Apparently all that was left of Man with Huge Fig Leaf was a pile of dust!' said the second guard. The first guard stared at him for a moment before turning back to Vord.  
'... And we have cornered a murderer near the university.'  
'Unseen University?' said Vord. 'What on earth would a criminal be doing there?'  
'We don't know sir,' said the guard in a tone that said very clearly "we expect to find a criminal everywhere that we look". He was busily writing something down on his notepad. 'But with all this commotion we still have to ask travellers about the road from Quirm. Did you travel that way yourself?'  
'Yes I did'  
'Were you waylaid by bandits, highwaymen or any other assorted thugs?'  
Vord thought of the first highwayman who had waylaid him that journey and was now a frozen statue on the side of the road. Then he smiled as he remembered the second group who were much less threatening after they discovered that upraised swords made excellent lightning rods.  
'No officer, I had no problems whatsoever.'

He glanced at the second guard before asking, 'Is your partner there sick?'  
The guard finished his notes and flipped the cardboard cover back over.  
'Jerry? No, he's not sick, why do you ask?'  
'It's just that he's looking awfully pale. A little green even.'  
'How dare you!' yelled Jerry, his eyes bulging. 'That's discrimination against the living impaired! You heard him Bill, you heard him!'  
The first guard put his hands on Jerry's shoulders and pushed him away from Pansy. Vord wrapped his fingers around his staff.  
'Now, now Jerry, I don't think he meant anything by it.'

Jerry wouldn't stand still. In his anger one eye actually popped out of its socket and dangled down his chest. He stepped up to Vord and grabbed a fistful of robes. 'Just you step down here old man, we'll see how sick this zombie is when he kicks your bony arse from here to Sto Lat!'  
'Jerry, you're on duty!'

Bill never got to elaborate on this point as Vord lifted his staff forward to touch Jerry with the knob on the end. There was a flare of octarine and Bill found himself pulling away a scarecrow in watch uniform. The straw was mouldy and smelt rotten. The scarecrow's face had one eye painted on and the other was an old onion tied on. Bill dropped the figure to the cobbles and stared at Vord with his mouth hanging open.  
'But... You can't... I know the rules of conduct for wizards in the city. You can't just magic a watchman!'

Vord leaned forward and grinned. 'Well, they're not so much rules but more… Guidelines.' He rode into the streets, leaving Bill standing next to the hay stuffed body.


	2. Chapter 2

Vord rode through the filthy streets of Ankh-Morpork breathing in the scents of the city and then pausing to cough them out again. As he rode past Maggot Street he smiled at the familiar calls of the word merchants.  
'Write you a rhyme, half the price!'  
''Ere, that don't rhyme.'  
'I only rhyme half the time.'  
'… You're hired.'  
'Poet! Get your poet! Epics! Ballads! Dirty limericks a speciality!'

A man was standing on the corner, reciting the grand epic of the Tsortiad. He was just describing how one of the heroes had flashed his miniskirt at the other side when he went suddenly silent. He even stopped moving. Vord watched to see what was going on.  
'Hey, what happened to him?' asked a voice from the crowd.  
'He stops until you pay him to keep going. A penny for each minute of reciting usually.'  
'Well give him tuppence then,' said a wistful female voice. 'It sounded like Heckle and Achenknees were about to wrestle.'  
'Can't move eh?' said another person who then walked over and picked up the poets collection plate. 'Cheers pal!'  
The poet's eyes watched the other man wander off and Vord watched his Adam's apple wobble violently. It was good to be home.

----

In Sator Square, Vord stood before the massive black gates of Unseen University with Pansy's reins in his hand. He had been standing there for quite some time before a figure weaselled across the damp stones to his side. Although the figure was dressed neatly he projected an aura of grease, as though he had heard that thick lashings of oil were beneficial for the complexion.

'G'day guvnor, can I interest you in a sausage-inna-bun? How about a donation to a worthy cause?'  
Vord studied the tubes of what seemed to be meat that sizzled on the plate around the man's neck.  
'What's the cause?'  
'Glad you asked, glad you asked. All donations go to the Dibbler Support Fund, guaranteed.'  
'I see. Where are the buns?'  
The man's eyes widened but his smile grew so large that sharks would turn and swim as fast as they could from it.  
'Oh I save the buns until I have a customer sir, makes sure they're fresh!'  
'Alright.' Vord eyed the meat warily. 'I suppose I'll have one then.'

The man fished in a sack at his side and brought out a furry brown thing that Vord assumed at first was a dead puppy. Then the man creaked it open and scooped up a sausage with it and held it out to Vord who stared.  
'This is a fresh bun?'  
'I take payment in advance if you don't mind.'  
Vord paid and took the item, studying carefully.  
'And you're telling me that people eat these are you?'  
'Now sir, I sold you a sausage-inna-bun. What you do with it is entirely up to you. I have one customer who uses them to catch pigeons.'  
'Oh really?' Vord took a bite and froze.  
'Yes, he says they even knock out the tougher gutter-pigeons if he throws it hard enough.'

The man smiled as Vord ran to a nearby alley mouth. Wet sounds echoed out as the seller strolled past the alley towards the other side of the square.  
'Tastes better on the way out I hear!' He called out as he ambled off into the crowd.

----

Vord came out of the alley after a minute, pale and wiping his face with his sleeve. He brushed the dirt off his knees and glared at the black doors of the university then spun around and stalked across the square to one of the small shops that lined the edges. The sign above the door read LongFlag and had a red tear painted on it.

A bell rang as Vord stepped inside. The shop was nearly empty. Flags in all colours and any size (so long as it was small) hung on the walls and some display cases held books with titles like "Semaphore, A Beginners Guide" and "Flag Waving for Incompetent Ninnies." Vord looked around the walls wondering where the shopkeeper was. He walked up to one of the displays and felt a rustle of air and a gentle cough behind him. He turned and found himself face to face with a young man in a well cut suit.

'Can I help you sir? Were you thinking of upgrading your flags?'  
'Upgrading my flags? No, actually, I just wanted…'  
'Oh but sir we have some excellent new models on promotion at the moment, do come and have a look!'

Bemused, Vord allowed himself to follow the young man over to one of the walls, wondering _excellent model flags_?  
'Here we are sir, the latest Pennant Handheld. Comes in a rainbow of colour options. It even has built in games!'  
'Games? What sort of games can you play with a flag?'  
The shopkeeper took one of the flags off the wall and showed Vord the delicately embroidered tic-tac-toe board on one side. Vord fingered the cloth. It felt greasy, like a banana skin.

'Is… Is that magic I can feel on this flag?'  
The shopkeeper smiled, but there was a shine to his forehead as he did.  
'Well, actually, yes there is! Very perceptive of you sir. You see these models let you actually play with yourself if you want.'  
'I'm sure they're very popular.' Vord looked at the grid again. You had to give the people what they wanted.

The bell rang and another young man rushed up to the shopkeeper, clutching a pair of orange flags at his chest.  
'Quick, I need a new handle, it's urgent!'  
'Certainly sir. That will be one dollar.'  
The man paid and the shopkeeper took the flags out into the back room. Alone in the store, the man began pacing quickly, looking up and down Vord's robes.  
'You're a Wizard, huh? How's that working out for you?'  
Vord was about to answer when he realised the man was still pacing and paying more attention to his shoes than to Vord. Vord gripped his staff.  
'Here you are sir.' The shopkeeper brought the man's flag back in and handed them over. The handles were now bright white instead of black. 'These'll last you a month.'

As the man rushed out into the crowds of Ankh-Morpork's nightlife Vord shook his head.  
'What's with the different colour handles?'  
'The handles?' The shopkeeper looked surprised. 'We use enchanted wood that turns black after a month. A client with black sticks can't use the network.'  
'What network?'  
'What do you mean what network?' The shopkeeper's face puckered in confusion. 'How can you not know about the semaphore network? The roof gargoyles relaying messages! The fantastic advances in vital technology! Where on the _Disc_ have you been?'

Vord scowled and pointed his staff at the shopkeeper.  
'What wrong with a good old fashioned pigeon? You're lucky I don't turn you into something unpleasant for using magic is such a frivolous manner…'  
The shopkeeper attempted to splutter an interruption but Vord ploughed on.  
'… but I'm in a hurry and need to know where the university guards are so I can get them to open the blasted gates.'  
'Open the gates?' The shopkeeper's eyes crossed in an effort not to look at the knobbly bit of heavy wood waving threateningly in front of his face. 'Just push them. But stay off the grass unless you want Modo to do his nut.'  
Vord lowered the staff but drew his thick eyebrows together.  
'Anyone can just walk into the university?' He spread his arms. 'What is going on?'


	3. Chapter 3

Vord pushed against the gates of the university and felt them give under his touch. The hinges opened silently and revealed the university grounds beyond the gates. The great glass dome of the library had some broken panes and, from the people clambering over it, Vord assumed the damage was recent. He led Pansy towards the bulging structures of the Great Hall.

A late dinner was in progress in the hall but the hubbub at the library had drawn many of the regular diners away. Vord watched those greedy few who remained, picking at their neighbours abandoned meals, with distaste. As far as precautions in case of poisoning were concerned, these wizards appeared to value sugar and suet above such well known staples as oxygen and a working circulatory system. Vord picked up an apple from a passing platter and asked the nearest wizard where he could find the offices of the Ancient and Truly Original Brothers of the Silver Star.

'The what?' Vord found himself showered in crumbs and flakes of pastry.  
'The Brothers of the Silver Star. I need to speak to the head of the Order.'  
'I haven't heard much talk of any orders recently. Hang on a moment, which order was I in?'  
Vord watched impatiently and chewed on his apple.  
'I think I was in the Hoodwinkers. Yes, I'm fairly sure they were my lot.'  
'How wonderful, you fat old coot, where do I find members of the Silver Star?'

'Ahem.' The voice came from behind Vord. He turned and found a young serving girl with her head down and her hands behind her back. He smiled at her.  
'Yes my dear?'  
'Well sir, I do the laundry in the widdershins wing and I'm fairly sure the head of the Order you're talking about lives there. On the second floor.'  
'Do you know what room number?'  
'No, but I think it's him because I remembered he always has notes stuck to his door that mention silver stars.'  
'Thank you very much. I shall go and see.'

----

The widdershins wing was difficult to find. Since Vord had last been through the university there had been some remodelling. It was difficult to establish which direction widdershins was without using a map. Eventually Vord closed his eyes and took every left turn until he thought he was in the right place.

The corridor in front of him was well lit by oil lamps and the floor well swept, though wet footprints criss-crossed the wood. Obviously it was a well used hallway. Room 361 had a notice board covered in paper mounted on it. Some wizards had apparently grown tired of trying to pry out the thumbtacks from the board and had used magic to stack the papers sideways. A pile two inches thick stuck out of the left side of the board. Vord studied the notices.

'Well used skull, dribbly candle pre-melted on, see Brin.'  
'Come to the third annual Silver Star pie eating contest. Bring your own spoon!'  
'Do you want to become one of our order's seventh level wizards? Apply within for notification of spaces.'  
Along the bottom of each notice there were rows of tabs cut into the paper so you could tear away one (or two, or all, depending on how much competition you felt comfortable with). Each tab had a name and room number to go for more information. Vord tore a tab ('Show me to Gerrick') off the notice for seventh level wizards and stared at it. Advertising? For wizard levels? Vord was only fourth level but he had some experience with the dog eat dog world of Dead Man's Boots. In fact, the travelling boots he still had on originally belonged to one Martin Carter, who had met with a most unfortunate accident during an apparently spur-of-the-moment desire to go hiking in the moors outside Ankh-Morpork. He knocked on the door.

'Hold on, hold on,' came a frustrated voice from the other side of the door. A papery rustling, like moving paperwork, shortly followed. There was a pause during which he could practically see the person on the other side straightening his robes in a last ditch attempt at respectability. When the door did open Vord found himself pleasantly surprised. The wizard had on a large and impressive pointy hat covered in occult astronomical symbols. His robes were that deep dark blue that sometimes gets called midnight but is often confused by laymen as 'what, you mean black?' Like his hat his robes had so many silver stars and moons that Vord was amazed not to see a few wizened old women crowding around, making predictions and charging outrageous prices. The effect was only slightly let down by the plump rosy cheeks and nervous eyes of the wizard himself. Still, wizards have always respected style over substance so Vord smiled and bowed slightly.

'Good afternoon brother. My name is Vord. I am a fourth level in the Order and I have only just returned from a research trip. I was hoping the Order could find me a room.'  
'A room? Well, I suppose we could find something. Come in, come in, the inner circle is supposed to be meeting here soon. My name is Gerrick.'  
Gerrick held out a pudgy hand. Vord squinted at it before gingerly taking it in his own.  
'Ah hello... Um...' Vord was surprised at Gerrick's lack of protocol. He pursed his lips and then asked. 'So, what level are you?' He swallowed distastefully. The round man showed no offence at the question at all and answered cheerfully.  
'I'm a sixth level. Mainly I work under Eltharion the Pale and Ted. Some people think Ted's got some elvish in his background but I always say "You can't choose your family, but you shouldn't cull the bad ones yourself anyway."'

Vord followed Gerrick into the room. Books and pamphlets swamped the available flat surfaces but some had been pushed aside to make room for a variety of platters with small snacks on them. Vord noticed that most of the trays were sitting on stacks of paperwork shaped into footstools and coffee tables. Out of self interest Vord moved away from the plates and asked with an air of great indifference,  
'So, the cooking staff whipped up some snacks for the meeting did they?'  
'No, no, spent the afternoon on them myself.'  
Vord shuffled up against the wall. A hillock of paper shifted and loose leaves fell around him in a strange sort of snowfall.

----

'So,' said Gerrick. 'Been away from the university for awhile?'  
'Yes." Vord watched Gerrick finger his sleeves for a second. 'I was doing research.'  
'Right, right, research.' Gerrick nodded and shifted his weight from foot to foot. 'So. Would you like a cup of tea while we wait?'  
'Certainly.'

Gerrick scuffed past him into the kitchen. The clattering of a single man unused to doing his own cooking nearly drowned out his voice.  
'So, what sort of research were you doing?'  
'I've mainly been documenting fire magic. I've been travelling through Klatch and Howandaland for a few years now.'  
'Do you like curry then?'  
Vord was confused. Curry? He'd tried some curry in Klatch and realised that burning his throat and spending days on end in the privy wasn't his goal in a meal.  
'No.'

Gerrick came out of the kitchen with two chipped cups.  
'We'll just let them sit for a tick, alright?'  
The awkward silence returned  
Eventually, there was a knock at the door.

'I'll get it!' yelled Gerrick as he bounced across to the door. Vord watched him in horror, a sixth level wizard excited that someone was at the door. He looked at the steaming cup in his hands. Dark liquid swirled within. And it had been prepared in another room. Vord casually tipped the tea out behind one of Gerrick's tables, hoping the drifts of paper would soak it up.

Gerrick was welcoming someone in. It was amazing how friendly Gerrick was. The only time Vord would be so welcoming would be if he had already come up with a foolproof way of eliminating the guests. And even then he'd remain aloof to avoid arousing suspicion.

The newcomer was huge, rounder than anything Vord had seen outside Howandaland. He gave the impression he was about to float gently into the air with every step. Vord was only able to make out the man's head by spotting the small blue cone of his hat perched on the top. A squeaky voice, like the sound of air escaping a leaky balloon, said, 'Good evening' and then the round figure tethered itself to a comfy chair.

Gerrick had just shut the door when there was another knock. This time two wizards were waiting in the hall. Vord studied them for clues to their identity but Gerrick's cheerful welcome foiled his attempt. Instead of bowing or giving their hats to him to hang up, which would have provided some sort of comparison, they shook Gerrick's hand and put their own hats on the hat stand. One had an island of pink skin rising from the flattened white brush of his hair while the other had clearly made an attempt to clean up for the meeting. The comb was still stuck in his hair.

As the two found seats the squeaky voice rose again.  
'Hello Temperance. Hello Brin. How are you doing?'  
'Hello Rodney,' said the bald wizard. He glanced at Vord. 'Who's your friend?'  
'Don't ask me, he was here when I arrived.' The little cone swivelled to face Vord in the corner. Vord sighed.  
'My name is Vord. I'm a fourth level in the Order.'  
'I'm pleased to meet you. I'm Brin, fifth level, and this is Temperance.'  
The wizard with the comb nodded in acknowledgment. 'I think he's sixth level. Not really sure.'

Vord's finger tightened around his staff. It was worrying enough that all these wizards were far too friendly, but being friendly with a wizard below you was crazy. It was like a snake becoming chums with a mongoose. It was only a matter of time before nature came home and reacted, usually after a long and upsetting day at work, metaphorically speaking.


	4. Chapter 4

Vord stayed in the corner as more of the Order arrived, all solidly built (or at least planned). Most of them looked like the builders had grown sick of bricks and wood and had decided to experiment with marshmallow. Vord resisted the desire to poke their stomachs and see if they giggled. Not even Lemuel, the only third level wizard present, seemed the slightest concerned at his presence. Once they had all found seats around Gerrick's coffee table, sweeping aside stacks of paper work to find room, the wizard introduced as Ted cleared his throat.

'Shall we begin? Alright, first off, I'd like to formally introduce everyone to Vord here.' He waved a hand at Vord. The others nodded politely. 'It seems our brother here has just returned from an extended research trip in the deserts near the rim. How did it all go, my man?'  
'About as well as I had hoped. The desert tribes weren't too much trouble and their shamans had some interesting ideas for such a backwards people. I've had a few ideas for a book on the subject of "Taming the Flames".'  
The others murmured appreciatively at the catchy title.

'If you're planning a book I hope you spent some time in the jungles collecting bananas!' said Brin. A nervous chuckle ran around the group. Vord thought about asking why, but he could tell from the tight smiles hiding behind their thick beards that none of the wizards would explain anything now. Instead he allowed a similarly small smile to pass over his face.

'Well, shall we get to the agenda then?' Ted asked. The others made vague noises of assent. 'Vord, be a good lad and go make us all a cup of tea. Does anyone have last month's minutes? Not you Herbert, that's just a pocket watch. No, it keeps other sorts of minutes. Gerrick?'

The red faced wizard allowed that, yes possibly the minutes were still somewhere within his room. Everyone looked around at the white feathery layers covering every surface. Vord left them rummaging through the drifts, emitting only the occasional yelp of a paper cut, to head into the kitchen.

----

Vord was fuming as he formed a tiny fireball and placed in the hollow beneath the kettle. Why was he making tea? I mean, yes, he was youngest man at the meeting and, yes, he was almost the lowest level too but surely that didn't mean he had to be the one killing time while the water boiled. It was probably because they didn't know him as well. In that case… The mugs sat tempting him, empty on the sideboard.

A cry of triumph echoed through from the main room but irked argument immediately followed. Presumably whatever had been found hadn't been last month's minutes. Vord thought back over the last few hierarchy meetings he had schemed into, at least as an observer. To start, they were generally in an observation tower on the first night of the waning moon, not in some forgetful old fool's untidy rooms. And there were servants of the Order bringing wine and rare delicacies. He poured the tea into the worn out mugs on a tray and lifted it slowly. Something about this meeting was wrong.

When Vord re-entered the sitting room he could see Ted had managed to find the minutes. Two of the other wizards were glaring at each other from opposite sides of the room, one with an eye already blackening and the other rubbing his hand.  
'Ah Vord! Good lad. We had a bit of a scholarly dispute here. Still, no harm done. Nothing permanent. And we found the minutes!'  
'Good.' Vord handed round the tea.

'Yes indeed. Now, as the head of the Order, I shall read the minutes.'  
Vord froze. Head of the Order? Head of the _Order_? He had realised that the pale thin (well, thinner) man in the slightly wispy robes was running the meeting but _Head of the Order_? Vord recalled Grand Master Fong who had insisted on total obedience and held a belief that nothing he said or did was wrong, despite many complaints from the peasants whose houses had burnt down. Under him it was clear who was in charge. Ted was a dandelion. All Vord had to do was blow him aside.

Vord recovered and handed out the rest of the cups before returning to his corner and trying to listen to the meeting. He frowned; annoyed at the realisation he hadn't dared to poison any of the tea cups.

'So, at the last meeting of the Order of the Silver Stars we decided that...' Ted began but was interrupted.  
'Excuse me.' It was a small wizard squeezed in between Rodney and another particularly round wizard on the couch. 'Did you say Silver Stars?'  
Ted's eyebrows drew together.  
'Yes.'  
'Terribly sorry.' The small wizard said. 'I was sure this was the meeting of the Ancient and Truly Original Sages of the Unbroken Circle.'  
'No, Ancient and Truly Original Brothers of the Silver Star.' The others nodded.

'Ah. Well,' said the small wizard. He put down his cup of tea and tried to pull himself out from between the other two wizards. After a moment or two of struggle achieving nothing he sat back and picked up his tea again.  
'Would it be alright if I just stayed then? No harm done after all.'  
'Certainly. Give us a few fresh ideas maybe.' Ted smiled and looked back at the minutes.

Vord's mind reeled. Allowing a member of another order to observe a meeting of the inner circle? Ted was allowing the Order to fall apart and none of these rotund morons were going to try and fix things. Clearly Vord would have to take charge.

----

Sitting behind his small writing desk, Timothy stared at a blank piece of paper in the wild hope that it would suddenly and helpfully turn into an intelligent analysis of the Eunuch's System for Stone Circles as applied in the Sto Plains environment. This sort of thing is a suitable diversion for the average student, though few have managed to acquire the skills necessary to spontaneously generate essays before they have learned from the Professor's of Unseen University. Unfortunately Timothy wasn't even trying very hard.

He was consumed by another problem, namely the fact that his name seemed immature and goofy, the sort of name one gave a precocious child who wandered around with an ever present lollipop and sticky fingers. This is, of course, why his parents had given it to him. It is unusual to find parents prescient enough to give their children names that are suitable for adults, although those that are wise enough almost invariably end up killed by their offspring. Timothy wanted to be a serious Wizard but his tutors always smiled at him and patted his greasy hair when he tried to participate in tutorials. They tended to call him "Timmy".

I would have gone insane years ago if I didn't have a nickname, he said to himself in the quiet room. The door swung open.  
'Afternoon Spot,' said his roommate, a short young man named Randall.  
Timothy felt a blush beginning to make camp around the huge mole that took up the space on his face where his left check should have been.

'Hi Randall. Been studying at the library?'  
'Studying?' The short student sat on the lower of their bunks and scratched his chin. 'Why on earth would I be studying so soon?'  
'What do you mean "soon"? It's halfway through the semester! Don't you have any tutorial assignments?'  
'Ah, see, most of my stuff is practical. You know, in class demonstrations. It'd be tough to do those out here! Unless...' Randall's eyes brightened and he smiled like a cat that had just spotted yet /another/ limping mouse. 'I could try to organise your textbooks alphabetically.' He began to make gestures in the air and mumble under his breath.  
'From the bunks? No!' Timothy leaned over to protect his books. Then, after contemplating the forces of a student's spell on another student's body, he leaned back over the desk. 'Not that I don't trust you, I just. Have everything sorted how I like it.'

Randall's grin stretched even further.  
'Oh you do, do you?'  
Timothy wondered if his friend's head was hinged somewhere near the back.  
'Yes, by thaumic weight. They're more useful that way.'  
'Fair enough.' Randall sat looking out their small grimy window. 'So, why are you studying so hard? What have you taken?'

Timothy turned to his friend. Randall flinched and leaned away. Timothy's eyes carried the tormented horror of a man who faced thick and incomprehensible texts, writer's cramp in every muscle of his body and night's spent studying by waning candlelight and _he had chosen it for himself_.

'According to the schedule I need to know these five inside out by the next lecture.' Timothy gestured to a few books chained down on the side of his desk. One took a half hearted snap at his hand while a more skittish volume flapped a few inches into the air.  
'How can you cover five in one lecture?'  
'It's a class on time manipulation.'  
Randall nodded.

'Of course. Well, some of the others and I are going to go down and see about signing up to the Order's. Want to come?'  
Timothy looked at the blank paper sitting on the desk. It shone with a white cleaness that made him feel ill. The time books growled softly. 'Why not? I'm not getting anywhere here.'  
As they walked out of the room he asked Randall 'I've always wondered how we become a part of the Orders.'


	5. Chapter 5

'I thought members didn't join the Order until they graduated?' Vord was angry and confused. They couldn't really have been talking about students in his nice clean Order, could they?  
'No, you are quite correct Vord,' said Temperance.

Vord sat back in his chair. What a relief. Imagine students passing the rites before they'd even passed their exams! 'So, what are these "sign-up" days about then?' he heard himself asking.  
'They sign up as initiates. We give them a quick run down to prove whether or not they're the sort of wizard we'd want in the Silver Stars and they become a part of the Order. Subservient roles of course, helps teach them to do as they're told,' Temperance added, as though it made up for the outrageous method he was describing. 'When they graduate we take them through the proper induction,' he finished.

Vord was disgusted. The Silver Stars hadn't approached him until a year after he graduated. Why, if you let them come to you anybody might try and join!  
'Did any of you do it like that?'  
No one answered him.

'Now, Vord,' said Ted, steepling his pale fingers together. 'We have found this is an excellent way of increasing student interest in the Order. Most of the other Orders are doing it like this also.'  
'I understand, you have to follow the trends,' said Vord. 'Might enquire if I could observe the next initiation?'  
'Certainly you can. I believe Brin will be holding one for the latest group at the end of the week.'

Brin nodded from the other side of the room. 'Yes, and I could use some help. You see, we have some particular tests we use for the students Vord.'  
Some of the other wizards chuckled. Vord thought he heard someone mumble, 'they thought the cornflakes were broken bottles' before Brin continued. 'It 's not really about getting new members. It's about keeping the students in line.'  
'And keeping up morale. Our morale, anyway,' added Gerrick.  
'If you can make it on Saturday afternoon, I'll be sure and bring extra paddles,' said Brin.  
Vord tried to imagine why paddles could possibly be necessary.

'Excellent. Next on the agenda. Ah yes. Gerrick, we need you to arrange some form of compensation for the owner of the Tardy Stump. He's upset about last month's pub crawl.'  
'Upset? But his pub won!'  
'Apparently that's half the problem. All his regulars are telling him to change its name to "The Surprisingly Swift Stump" or "The Fastest Stump in Town." And the legs still haven't worn off.'  
'I'll look into it Ted,' said Gerrick.

There was a general murmuring and nodding. Vord ground his teeth together.  
'I think that's all then?' Ted looked around the faces of the gathered wizards. They began the non-specific shuffle of people who have realised that the meeting will be over soon and some blood pumping through the legs might be useful for when it comes time to move.

Vord coughed politely. Rodney's small cone turned toward Vord and his round body leaned away, nearly crushing the small wizard from the Unbroken Circle. His squeaky voice cut through the rustling of Wizards getting ready to leave.  
'Are you sick?'  
'Of course not!' Vord growled. 'I just wanted to ask a couple of questions.'

The others sighed and settled down again. Ted smiled at Vord but the rush of breath from his nose suggested he was beginning to get annoyed with Vord's interruptions.  
'Yes?' he snapped.  
'Could you find a room for me, sir?'  
'Of course. Stay with Brin for a few nights and I'm sure we'll find you something more suitable shortly. And the other question?'  
'How soon can I begin my lecturing?'  
Eltharion the Pale began to choke on his tea, further reddening his large rosy cheeks.

----

Vord followed Brin into the hallway. At the first junction they saw a student looking out of a tall window. Over the students shoulder Vord could just make out a distant figure on a tower, holding two large white flags. 'At... the... Drum. Excellent.' The student finished muttering and pulled a pair of flags from inside his robes and extended his arms, smoothly knocking Brin's pointy hat to the ground.

'Oh, I'm sorry sir.' The student bent and picked up the hat for Brin. 'I was just... trying to get that fly.' He waved the flags through the air a couple of times. Vord and Brin looked for any signs of an insect but were disappointed. Brin laughed.  
'Are you sure you weren't sending an SM? Not when they've been banned from University grounds?'  
'No sir, certainly not.'

Vord and Brin continued down the hallway. After a moment Vord glanced behind them to see the young man flailing his flags around in the air.  
'Brin. Why didn't you punish him for breaking the rules?'  
'You heard him. He was trying to swat a fly.'  
Vord looked at him.

'Well, alright,' said Brin. 'He was breaking the rules. But it's a victimless crime. I never really understood why the Archchancellor banned it in the first place.'  
There was a yelp from behind them. The flag waving student was dangling out the window with an angry student holding him by the ankles. The angry student had a noticeable red mark across his face.  
'Ah, to be young again,' sighed Brin. 'I used to love the odd student hi-jinks.'

Eventually they arrived back in the Great Hall and Brin led Vord over to an empty bench beside a table groaning under the weight of umpteen roast meals. Roast pork, roast beef, roast potatoes, even a roast salad tucked behind a huge platter of roast lamb. Brin sat down and pulled a platter over so he wouldn't have to stretch. Vord stood behind him, his bags in his hands.

'Brin?'  
'Mnmph?' was the potato dampened reply.  
'I thought we were going to you rooms?'  
'Oh yes. But its Midnight Snack. You can't miss your Midnight Snack, can you?'  
Vord heaved his saddlebags onto his shoulder.  
'Oh, I suppose those do look heavy,' said Brin. He looked at the large bowl of mashed potato that sat enticingly nearby. Then he grabbed the serving spoon and dug out an immense spoonful. 'Some for the road,' he winked at Vord as he dipped it in a pot of gravy.

As they walked back into the corridors Vord stared at the back of his new, hopefully temporary, roommate. Brin was licking his spoon contentedly, like some obnoxious child that cried to get a treat. Vord was going to have to make some changes.


	6. Chapter 6

Brin had finished his potato and stuck the spoon behind his belt by the time he was introducing Vord to their quarters. Vord looked around the small room to see shelves covered in primitive trinkets and tribal masks hanging on the walls.  
'What's all this?'

Brin was shoving some small wooden figures behind a chair with his foot. Vord caught a glimpse of some figures that appeared to have three legs and large smiles.  
'Oh you know, this and that. I enjoy finding out about the less civilised cultures on the disc.'  
'Civilised cultures? Like, mould cities?'  
'No, no; primitives. You know. Like the people you must have met in the jungles.'

Vord pictured the people he had moved among in Howondaland. Then he looked at the spoon in Brin's belt, gravy still dripping slowly down the handle.  
'Primitives. I completely understand.' He looked through the doorways from the room. 'I can only see one bedroom here.'  
'Yes, I'm afraid fourth level doesn't get you top notch accommodation. At least there's a view.'

Outside the one small window Vord could see an expanse of brick. Vord poked his head out of the window and looked down into a damp alley so narrow that weasels would find it tight. There were shapes moving in the shadows below him.  
'What's down there?'  
'Mushrooms.'

Vord looked left and was just able to see a glimpse of the Unreal Estate houses through a broken part of the wall, a small collection of houses built to unnatural angles and lining disturbingly curved streets. He moved back into the room.  
'So, where am I sleeping while they find me a room?'  
'Well, I figure we could get some cushions on the table without too much trouble.'

Vord put his bags down and looked over at the low table sitting at the side of the room.'Is it just me,' he said. 'Or are there a surprising number of vicious knives on that table?'

Brin moved over to the table and picked up one of the knives. The handle was made of a yellow metal and shaped like a demon with a massive grin. The demon came complete with extra arms and strange jewellery but the blade was straight and simple. Vord mentioned this to Brin.  
'Well of course,' answered the fat wizard. 'It's made so the blood comes off easily.'  
'Of course.'

Brin handed the blade to Vord and turned back to the table.  
'I have a beautiful specimen from the Tezuman Empire here somewhere. Onyx you know. That's a kind of stone.'  
His broad smooth back was all Vord could see. The candles in the room sparkled off the sheer metal of the blade in his hand.

Why not? This plump wizard was foolish enough to give a lower level wizard a blade in private. That was the equivalent of bathing in barbeque sauce before going for a swim in piranha infested waters. The witch doctors from the tribes Vord had met wouldn't have let an opportunity to show their strength pass by. Besides, it would be bad for the university if such foolish wizards were ever in a position to influence the students. They seemed daft enough if the idiot with flags was any indication. The demonic face in the knife's handle seemed to wink at Vord.

----

The dwarf stood before Vord writing in hi… its notebook. Whenever it turned to a fresh page it would lick the lead of its pencil before continuing to write. Vord found himself staring at the pink nail polish on the tough hands and the red lipstick beneath the thick beard. The bow-tied braid in the beard didn't help matters. Gerrick was talking non-stop at the dwarf.

'… just cleaning up after the meeting, I had all the top wizards from our Order for dinner you see, when all of a sudden in bursts young Vord here, covered in blood and …'  
Vord coughed.  
The dwarf nodded and made another note then turned to Vord while Gerrick began to talk again. Its City Watch Badge caught the dim light.

'Now, Mr Vord, can you explain to me why you were running in to Mr Gerrick's room covered in blood?'  
'You see Officer Cheery….' he began.  
'Officer Littlebottom, if you please,' the dwarf interjected.  
'Certainly.' Vord paused to make sure he wasn't smiling unconsciously. 'Ah, you see Officer… Littlebottom. I was rushing to inform Gerrick of a terrible accident.'  
'Hence the blood.'  
'Exactly.'  
The dwarf smiled patiently.  
'Could you describe the accident to me, if you don't mind?'  
A tight smile flickered on Vord's face.  
'Certainly.' He began to talk, enunciating each word and pausing between sentences so that the dwarf had time to take notes. They both ignored Gerrick who continued to blabber. The fat wizard kept rubbing his hands together and darting his eyes around the room.

Vord was pleased when the dwarf finally indicated that it had heard enough and closed its notebook with a papery snap.  
'I'm always available if you have any more questions,' he said as he tried to usher the dwarf towards the hallway.  
'Don't worry,' said the dwarf as it squeezed past the student wizards peering through the doorway. 'I'm sure I will.'  
Vord licked his lips. _I'm going to have to keep and eye on these watchmen_, he thought. A flag nearly clipped his nose.

'Don't you know that semaphore messages are against the rules on University grounds?' he snapped, reaching out to confiscate the flags from a startled student.  
'Well, yes, but I sort of figured that this would be a bit of an exception,' the young wizard managed to get out.  
'What on the Disc gave you that impression, you fool?'  
The student indicated the mound behind Vord that had been Brin until quite recently, now covered by a white sheet. A disturbing amount of blood had soaked into the cheap material.  
'Oh, that.' Vord looked at the flags he had taken. _Clearly I'll have to learn how to use these._

'Just get out of here.' He gave the flags back to the student. 'You can have them back but I had better not catch you using them again.' The student nodded and gulped, a sight that reminded Vord of the time he had seen a snake trying to swallow a pig in Howondaland. The student scuttled away down the hall, followed by some of the more nervous looking others. A few remained, watching Vord as he straightened his robes.  
'That goes for all of you,' he growled and they quickly joined the others.

Vord turned back to Gerrick who had run out of things to say. His body hadn't been informed of the new development and his mouth was still flapping like a stranded fishes. Vord put an arm over the other wizard's shoulder. It was like trying to comfort a beach-ball.

'Gerrick.' He kept his voice low and sympathetic. Gerrick's eyes swung towards him. Vord reached up and pushed Gerrick's gaping mouth shut.  
'I know this has been a terrible tragedy, but I think it's important to stop anybody panicking, don't you?'  
'Stop panic, yes, we don't want anybody losing their head.' Gerrick's eyes bulged as he realised what he had said.  
'Quite,' agreed Vord. 'So I think it's vitally important that you suggest to Ted that we keep this little incident within the Order. No good upsetting anyone by getting outsiders involved, am I right?'  
'Oh, I could never tell Ted what to do!' Gerrick's eyelid twitched.  
'No, no,' reassured Vord. 'I don't mean for you to get above your duties. I just mean that you're his assistant and maybe you could give him a few ideas.'  
Gerrick nodded slowly.

'Good,' soothed Vord. 'Now, there's one other thing that's been on my mind. Poor Brin didn't have a chance to tell me much about the initiation this Saturday.' Gerrick flinched at the dead wizard's name. Vord ignored him. 'I've had a few ideas myself, actually. Tell me what you think.'  
They left the room and Gerrick began to tremble as Vord explained his plans for the students.


	7. Chapter 7

I'm sorry this entry was late. The site wouldn't allow me to log in.

* * *

Cheery Littlebottom wasn't happy when she left the University. Murder was a gruesome business and, as much as the thin wizard had claimed his room-mate had accidentally had a knife driven into his back multiple times, it was impossible to mistake murder for anything else. She looked at her notes. He had been staring at her nail polish!

'Hello Corporal, what are you doing out so late?' Sergeant Angua was walking across the square to meet her.  
'I was investigating a death at Unseen University.'  
'Really?' Angua looked at the large walls that cut the university off from the rest of the city. It was hard to imagine anything really happening past those massive walls. Or anything. 'What do you think might have happened?'  
'A wizard got stabbed. That's all I can tell really.'

They began to proceed back to Pseudopolis Yard. A trainee thief shadowed them for a block before Angua turned and stared at him until he grinned nervously and sidled off to find a new mark.  
Angua shook her head.  
'Honestly, I wish the guild could make it clear that stealing from the Watch isn't part of the charter.'  
Cheery nodded. Angua glanced down at her.  
'Is something wrong?'

'No, not wrong as such.' Cheery frowned. 'It's just that the wizard who first found out about the death is very strange. He didn't act like any other wizards I've met.'  
'You mean he didn't assume that your armour was actually foil-covered chocolate?'  
'It's more than just that.' Cheery tried to muster her thoughts about the wizard. 'He was thin,' was all she could think of to say.  
'I have seen some thin wizards,' said Angua. She looked at Cheery's concerned expression. 'Although not recently,' she admitted.

'He said he'd just returned to Ankh Morpork.'  
'Did he say which gate he came in by?'  
'No' Cheery watched Angua think as they moved down the dark streets. Shadowy figures moved about their business. 'Why?' she asked the sergeant.  
'There was a misunderstanding at the Ludlock gate earlier tonight. Corporal Hoskus was turned into a scarecrow.'  
'Oh!' Cheery put a hand to her mouth.  
'I'm curious if this is the same wizard.'

'There's one other thing Angua. He said it was an accident. He said he didn't think we needed to investigate.'  
Angua pursed her lips. If there is anything that makes a police officer suspicious it's someone who says nothing's wrong.  
'We always need to investigate,' she growled.  
In the darkness of a nearby alley the stray dogs whined and crawled deeper into the gloom with their tails between their legs.

----

Angua was in the University as the sun deigned to let its light touch the roofs of Ankh Morpork. She wandered onto the grounds and into the Hall. On the way she passed a few of the more dedicated wizards who had apparently not noticed as the night had turned back into day while they did whatever it was wizards did all night.

They stared openly as she walked passed. More than one suddenly seemed to have only a tenuous grip on their staff, fumbling and dropping them. After the fourth wizard did a double take and attempted to walk into a broom closet, Angua began to think something might be wrong with her uniform. She ran her hands over it, searching for any tears or dents or caught twigs. There was a soft thump behind her.

She turned and saw a wizard coiled up like a water balloon on the floor, wheezing. She pictured herself and her hands. _Oohhhh,_ she thought.  
She hurried on into the great halls, taking care not to stride too heavily.

The hall was relatively empty. Most wizards slowly take on aspects of their environment due to thaumic morphic resonance. This is why so many of them appear to be soft walking mattresses. However there were a determined few who had set up camp in their customary positions along the various tables covered in a roast breakfast. Angua looked for the wizard in the most elaborate robes, rightly assuming that the chances he was the most senior wizard were good. She found him at the top of the hall, near the Faculty's table.

'Excuse me,' she said from behind him. He turned around on his seat. She looked at the ceiling while the wizard choked on his cornflakes. Soon he had collected his wits and was able to talk to her.  
'Can I help you young lady,' he asked.  
'I hope so. I'm here to follow up on the investigation into a suspicious death yesterday.'  
'Suspicious death.' The wizard's face furrowed in thought. 'Do you mean that student in the library? I know they only found his favourite crocheted bookmark, but we did warn him that the knitting and handicraft manuals were deceptively hostile. I think it's because so many people use them to quell their anger,' he added with a knowing wink.  
Angua coughed.

'Actually, no. This death involved multiple stab wounds and a member of the Silver Stars.'  
'Oh that.' The wizard turned back to his cornflakes. 'You'd have to speak to the head of the Order about that. I heard it was internal business.'  
'Of course you did.' Angua asked who the head of the Order was and where she could find him. She was soon in front of Ted's office.

----

'Absolutely not.'

Angua blinked. She was standing in front of a pale wizard sitting behind his desk and another wizard who seemed to be his assistant. The assistant was nervous. He kept fidgeting and glancing around the room. He was trying not to look at her. Angua sniffed and then coughed, her eyes watering. He reeked of fear.

'I'm sorry, what do you mean absolutely not? Surely you want to get to the bottom of this?'  
'Indeed I do officer. We have been told by the only witness to the tragedy that it was an accident but we must be sure.'  
Angua was confused. 'So, you do want me to investigate?'  
'No.' Ted stood up and shook his sleeves down his arms. Angua could see only his long-fingered hands as he clasped them together. Behind his back the assistant bit his lip but Angua could see he was nodding. She smelt some determination in the fear.

'You see officer, your authority ends at the University gates,' he said while he walked closer to her. 'I do appreciate your offer and I understand it must be frustrating for any member of our illustrious Watch to allow a mystery to go unsolved. However, it must be this way.' He smiled at her.

'You must be joking,' she snapped. 'Listen, you can't take the risk that it wasn't an accident and there's some…'  
'Risk?' Ted interrupted her. 'You're telling me about risks? I've cast spells that had to be timed down to the second; following precise instructions that were translated from a grimoire so old no one really knew how to read it. If anything went wrong I could have allowed creatures from other dimensions into our own, creatures like every terror that lurks in the shadowy corners of your imagination.' He was glaring at her now. Somewhere in her hind brain, part of Angua wanted to whine and back away.  
'And yet you tell me about risks,' Ted finished.  
'Okay, perhaps I used the wrong phrase. But still, surely you could use the Watches help.'

This time it was Ted's assistant who spoke. Despite his nerves he had a steady voice.  
'As Ted said, we appreciate the offer.' He moved a little closer, but not much. Angua wondered if he had heard the rumours about a werewolf in the Watch. _Then again_, she reminded herself, _you did see how the wizards in the corridors reacted_.  
'But the Watch is very clearly not supposed to be involved in University affairs, just as the University is not supposed to interfere in the everyday affairs of the city.' He swallowed. Ted moved back to his seat and the assistant went on.

'If we let an official Watch investigation take place people may expect to be allowed to call on the University for help demolishing a slum or transporting their luggage.'  
'What do you mean, demolishing a slum?' asked Angua. 'No one's going to ask you all to level the city.'  
He spread his hands. 'We must keep the boundaries. We will let you know what we find out if that will make you feel better though.'

Angua tried to think of something to say.  
'There's no way you'll let me take a look around?' she asked. They both shook their heads.  
'Very well. I would appreciate being informed of any developments.'  
'Certainly.' Ted waved his assistant over. The nervous wizard slipped past Angua and opened the door for her.  
'Good day officer,' said the head of the Order.


	8. Chapter 8

Angua was still trying to think of some way to sneak into the university as she climbed the stairs to Vimes' office. Raised voices inside shook her from her thoughts. She very carefully avoided listening to what was being said and knocked.

The voices continued and she knocked again, harder. This time they stopped. Angua heard Vimes muttering to whoever was with him then he called out, 'Come in then!'  
She walked inside.

Fred Colon was sweating on one side of the office. Carrot gleamed on the other. Angua wondered if they had good or bad news. She noticed the smell of tobacco in the air. Carrot's hands were behind his back and he seemed uncomfortable.  
'What are you hiding Carrot?' she asked.  
He grinned awkwardly and brought his hands out to show her. He was holding a lit cigar. She glanced over at Colon and saw that he had one also. Angua smiled at Vimes.  
'Does this mean what I think it means?'

'Indeed it does,' beamed Vimes. 'Last night I finally managed to get that bastard Carcer.'  
'Oh,' said Angua. 'That wasn't actually what I had thought…'  
The Commander is forgetting his other news,' said Carrot.  
Vimes looked at him for a second before half rising form his seat.  
'Of course, you've been on the night patrol haven't you? Sybil had Sam last night, a healthy boy.'  
'Congratulations. You must be very proud.'  
Vimes settled back into the seat and sucked happily on his cigar. He held it towards Angua in question but she held up a hand to refuse.

'Sorry sir, but I have a bit of a problem I wanted to bring to your attention.'  
Vimes frowned. 'Well, I knew it wouldn't last.'  
'Actually sir, I had some news to report when I came in too,' said Colon.  
Vimes sighed and drew on the cigar. The tip glowed bright orange and reflected in his eyes as he breathed out through his nose.  
'Fine. I'm sure Carrot had something terrible to tell me too, am I right Captain?'

Carrot nodded.  
'Sorry sir. I've been looking over the roster and I've noticed that we are getting short of men. But the prospects of increasing recruitment seem slim.'  
'Short of men? Not that long ago we managed to stop a dragon terrorising the city with only the four of us! How can we be short of men?'

'Well, to be fair sir, the dragon problem did put everything else onto the backburner. And it was only one dragon, so we could concentrate on it. But the Troll gangs are all over the city and there's at least seven causing trouble. I could see about getting you a dragon again, so we can all focus on it for awhile.' It was hard to tell when Carrot was joking. His face was always so serious.

'And you Fred?'  
Colon licked his lips. 'Well, its pretty much as Carrot said sir, there's been a lot of bad feeling over in Little Uberwald and a lot more unlicensed thieving going on. I was going to ask for more officers to patrol but now I hear Carrot say we haven't enough.'

Vimes looked at Angua. 'Let me guess. You need as many watchmen as we can muster to stave off a guild war by lunchtime?'  
'Thankfully, sir, that isn't why I'm here.'  
'Thankfully,' Vimes sniffed.

'I went up to the university to look into a death Cheery reported last night.'  
Carrot frowned.  
'Was it one of the wizards?' When Angua nodded he asked, 'What was his name?'  
'I don't even know that much right now,' she answered. 'They directed me to the head of the order involved and he made it very clear that they wouldn't let me investigate.'

Vimes bit down on his cigar and his eyes flashed, but he didn't speak. He shut his eyes and took a long breathe. While he was thinking Carrot spoke up.  
'Sir, technically it is their right. The university is outside out jurisdiction.'  
Vimes nodded slowly.  
'Fine. Let them deal with it. After all,' he gestured at the two men standing either side if Angua. 'These two have made it clear that we don't have enough men to do the jobs that people want us to do. Bugger the ones who don't.'

Angua nodded and turned to leave, her fists clenched.  
'But keep an eye on things from out here, alright?' Vimes added. 'Check with the Assassins, make sure it _is_ a University affair only.'  
Angua nodded as she let out her breath and relaxed her hands.  
'Good. Now, what can we do about you two,' Vimes said as she left the office.

----

Timmy hung at the rear of the group of students packed into the lecture theatre. It was an uncomfortable fit for two reasons. One, the theatre hadn't been designed to accommodate any more than the barest minimum amount of students, its architect having had a commendable appreciation of the way students think. Secondly, none of the students attending had actually been in this (or possibly any) lecture theatre, having themselves a more complete understanding of their own minds. This unfamiliarity meant that they kept tripping concealed, and largely pointless, low steps or getting their hands caught in the swing-down seats.

Timmy's friend Randall was having a conversation with a student whose massive eyes made Timmy very uncomfortable. It was like watching someone have a conversation with a goldfish.

'Let's go. You can't tell you don't feel something wrong here,' said Timmy to Randall. The other student sighed and barely glanced at his roommate.  
'What's wrong now? The only thing that seems to be missing to me is some form of alcoholic beverage. Then we'd really have a party.' Goldfish man bobbed his head and moved off into the crowd.  
'I just feel like I'm missing out on some important study time,' said Timmy.  
'For the god's sakes…' muttered Randall.

They stood next to each other without speaking. The cheerful hubbub of conversation was growing and an impromptu game of hangman had broken out on the chalkboard at the front of the theatre. The half complete stick figure was desperately miming letters in an attempt to avoid the rope.

Goldfish man pushed back through the crowd. He held out a small hipflask to Randall.  
'See Timmy?' Randall gestured at the other student. 'He knows what the student life is all about.'  
Timmy tried not to stare as the third student smiled. _More like frog really_, he thought.


	9. Chapter 9

There was a commotion by the door. A tall thin man was shoving in past the swarming students. Although he didn't have the forceful physical presence of the average wizard in Timmy's experience he more than made up for the lack with his stare which had the useful effect of silencing those outside ear clipping range. Soon the students had split into two groups and left a pathway for the newcomer. He made his way to the chalkboard and glared at the cowering hangman until a student stepped forward and wiped it away. The wizard graced the student with a flickering blink of a smile.

He wrote his name on the board. Vord. Timmy wondered who Vord was. _I don't think I've heard of him before. _He tapped his lips. _But there is something familiar about it…_

Vord silenced the chatter that had begun to rise with his curt voice.  
'I am Vord. You will call me sir.' He surveyed the students. 'All of you, find seats. I will not accept this slovenly behaviour.'  
Timmy felt like he had passed some obscure test by already being seating. He smiled and Randall clipped the back of his head.  
'Don't go getting chummy with this guy Timmy,' Randall whispered. Behind his friend, Timmy could see the goldfish man take a sip from the hipflask.

'Any questions?' Vord's sharp voice cut through the room. Timmy glanced around the other students, certain that no-one would be brave enough to question the imposing wizard, and was surprised to see Randall had raised his hand straight away. Vord nodded at him and Randall began to speak.

'Just one question sir. Where's Brin?'  
'Where is Master Brin?' The title sat heavily and accusingly in the sentence as Vord repeated it. He looked around the assembled faces and then nodded. 'Master Brin is dead.' A gasp moved through the room as he continued, 'It is, of course, a terrible tragedy, but the Order will soon sort everything out. However, I am sure he wouldn't have wanted to spoil your induction today with thoughts of disfiguring mortality.' He smiled. Timmy felt his throat go dry at the shine in the wizard's eyes. _Please, don't let anyone ask HOW Brin died, _prayed Timmy.

There were a few more questions about the Induction ('So how long is this going to take?') and the Order ('I don't have to do anything once I'm in, right?') but Vord only gave cursory answers. Soon there was an expectant silence.

Vord walked over to the hallway doors and looked up and down the corridor outside.  
'This is everybody who is coming, correct?' he asked the students as he closed the doors. There was an affirming murmur.  
'Good.' He touched the doors with his staff and glowing blue chains appeared over them. 'We're going to stay until everyone is finished.' He pointed his staff at the various torches and chandeliers that belaboured the walls and ceiling. One by one they dulled or died until Timmy could only just make out a shadowy figure at the front of the room.  
'Dramatic, eh?' nudged Randall.  
'Shhhh,' hissed Timmy, hoping Vord wouldn't hear them in the silence.

'Now to make sure no-one gets missed. All of you raise your hand.'  
Timmy held his left arm up straight and stiff. He frowned at Randall. His roommate lifted his hand to his shoulders and let it droop. Vord muttered something indistinct and Timmy felt his nose itch with the distinctive smell of magic 1. Someone in the back of the theatre sneezed.  
'You'll never be a wizard if you can't get used to the smell of magic,' said Vord.

He clicked his fingers and Timmy had to pinch his nose with his spare hand against the tickling odour. He saw other students doing the same. Several others sneezed. Timmy was about to smirk, happy that he wasn't as silly as them when he noticed his hand. It was glowing gently. Gasps rose from around the room.  
'Yes, it's a simple charm. As each of you completes the challenge I am about to set up the glow will fade and you will be able to pass the chains.' He gestured at the hall doors and then turned to the chalkboard. 'Now to set up the challenge.'

He began to draw symbols on the board, chalk outlines that seemed to shift, like worms trying to break free of the earth. Timmy could just hear the muttering voice of the odd wizard and he shuddered as a chill crept up his spine like a spider with cold feet. Randall propped his feet on the desk in front of them and leaned back in his chair.  
'It's some form of travelling or summoning spell,' he whispered loudly, nodding decisively and putting his hands behind his head. He glanced at the goldfish man. 'Definitely.'  
Timmy tried to shush them both as the third student stared at Vord and nodded slightly.

'Hey sir, it is meant to be a summoning spell, am I right?'  
Vord froze. The small fragment of chalk left his hand and kept scratching out obscure and vaguely threatening symbols like some disembodied hand on a temple wall. He turned and looked at Randall like an exterminator who was watching the lice perform a series of gymnastic feats. It wouldn't stop his killing them but, for a moment, he was curious what they might do next.

'I'm sorry. Did you say something to me?'  
'Yes, I was just wondering if you meant this to be a summoning spell.'  
Vord's eyebrows drew closer.  
'Yes. It is in fact a reverse summoning. I realise it may appear rather threadbare, but I was about to inscribe some circles on the floor with my staff and begin the conjuration of…'

Randall snorted. Vord's eyelids disappeared into his skull and Timmy squirmed on his seat, certain that the wizard's eyeballs were about to pop out. He leaned away from his roommate, who spoke loudly and slowly as if he was explaining why one couldn't have all the toys to a three-year-old.

'Why do you need to conjure anything? Even the Rite of Ashekente doesn't nee this much preparation.'  
'Are you in such a hurry to meet Death young man?'  
Even Randall noticed the threat that hung in the dark room. Timmy almost swallowed his tongue when he saw Randall was going to say something else anyway.  
'By all the gods, shut up and let the man do whatever he needs to get done!'  
There was a loud slap as Timmy slammed his hand over his mouth in shock at what he had just yelled. Vord nodded.  
'Thank you young man. It is good to finally find someone with the proper respect.'  
He turned back to the board and continued his spell.

As a large green glowing circle appeared on the floor between Vord and the students, Timmy risked a glance at Randall. The other student's cheeks were bright red but he was carefully avoiding Timmy's eyes. Instead he was watching as Vord finished his spell and occasionally shaking his head.

There was a sound like the last of the water blurgling out the drain of a sink. The circle of magical light flickered octarine and faded to a dull purple. Blue flecks sparkled in it. Vord smiled and spread his arms.  
'It is time to begin your initiation.'

1 - It is a seldom mentioned fact that magic has a smell, but when it is mentioned you'd think they'd try to actually get it right. The smell is caused by the air being burnt by thaumic particles, which causing the ozone tang. One can tell its magic rather than a gas leak by the way one's nose hairs begin to form into belligerent tribal groups.


	10. Chapter 10

Vord explained what was going to happen during the initiation.'We want to ensure that anyone who becomes a member of the ancient and truly original brothers of the Silver Star, even as a prospect, an initiate, is strong and true. We need people who stand firm in the face of whatever the world of magic may bring.'  
He passed his gaze over the students. His lip twitched as he looked at Randall. Timothy tried to sit straighter.

'So we have devised a very simple test,' Vord continued, indicating the circle. 'Each of you will enter the circle, remain there until you see the sign to leave, and immediately move through to the next room. Now,' he sharpened his eyes. 'Some of you will fail. You will fold or try to deceive me. It is not something to be ashamed of. You may still become wizards. But you cannot become a Silver Star yet and we ask that you leave immediately.'

Timothy knew it was a lie. If any of them failed this test then they wouldn't even want to be wizards anymore. It was going to be a real test, not some game to pass the time at the University. And by the smirks that knowing looks that were scattered across the faces of the other students, Timothy assumed he was the only one who realised.

Vord waved one student up. The room was silent as he walked forward and stood at the edge of the circle. He gulped visibly and looked at Vord. _I'm not the only one who's worried_, thought Timothy as Vord simply stared back at the student. With a sigh the young man stepped over the glowing line. And vanished.

There were a few murmurs of conversation but most of the students silently watched the circle. Soon the student appeared on the other side of the circle. His skin was white and he was trembling so hard he could barely walk.

'Well done my boy. Off you go to the next room,' said Vord. The student shuffled over to the door, a few specks of dust falling from his shoes. As the student opened the door Timmy noticed that the other man's hand no longer glowed.  
Vord smiled widely.  
'Next.'

----

One by one each student entered the circle, and most walked out the other side. Occasionally the student wouldn't appear and Vord would go into the circle and help them out. Most of the students who failed seemed frozen in terror, their mouths opening and shutting at random as Vord hustled them out through the glowing chains and into the hallways. By the speed he returned to the lecture theatre, Timothy was sure he was leaving them all in a quivering pile for the maids. One young man threw up before falling out through the chain covered doorway.

Timothy saw that Vord was watching. He smiled and swallowed thickly.  
'You next,' said Vord.

----

It isn't often spoken about, but there is more than one reason that Unseen University developed on the site near the river Ankh (1). It is well known that the Tower of Art is the oldest building in the city by the type of citizens who tend to annoy their fellow citizens by getting together in large groups and declaring each others junk to be worth large amounts of money and then telling newcomers that their family heirloom from the Civil War is actually a cheap Pseudopolitan knock-off. Of those who the city's history, those who tend to snicker while discussing wizards' staffs often fall over when the subject turns to the finer details of the Tower of Art. After all, it is an antiquated relic from an older, more dangerous time; a time when wizards competed against one another by building larger and larger towers and flinging gobs of magic at each other.

But fewer members of the general public that loiter in the streets know another, perhaps vital, reason for the University's existence. The Tower of Art was built over a reality gap, a place on the Disc where the already stretched fabric of reality is picked apart with all the care and precision of a starved alligator in a puppy farm. One of the largest and best known reality-gaps is the upside-down mountain of the Wyrmburg, though the violent nature of the dragon-riders and the scant nature of their women's clothing probably keep the tale spreading more than its magical intrigue. The university exists to provide a barrier between the gap and the city.

The gap at the university isn't as pervasive as the Wyrmburg but it is noticeable. Any wizards debating the various measures intended to keep the citizenry from discovering the dangers nearby invariably lowered their heads and observed a few moments in memory Mr Hong and his fish and chip shop. This is because of the nature of the unreal (or unnature of the real, the debate continues), that waits patiently beyond that stretched metaphorical fabric.

New student wizards, while generally left to do their slacking and skiving without a full wizard overseeing things, had one fact impressed upon them as soon as possible when they arrived at the University. 'Magic is like a flame to a moth,' said the older wizards. 'Only the moth eats fire and is quite willing and able to devour all life that it finds. Magic weakens the barrier between the real and the unreal. There are things there, unreal things, things that are always waiting to get in.'

When Timothy had first sat down for this summary he had thought it was a silly precaution. _Come on, the library is at least four times bigger on the inside and there's always wizards casting spells in the halls! Surely those are big enough weights on the rubber sheet, our shenanigans won't leave a dent?_

But then Old Man Thunderwhistle had brought in some artist's impressions. Timothy was still unsure whether the cackling old bastard had cast some sort of enchantment to make the paintings seem alive. One of them had a small note saying 'Property of Boatbacyn Asylum' stuck to it which told Timothy that he shouldn't ask. The answer may have been even more worrying.

None of this was forefront in his mind as he walked up to the glowing circle.  
'There's a good b… lad,' said Vord, motioning him closer. With a deep breath, Timothy steeped into the circle.

(1) - The first and most widely understood reason being the lack of a working sewer system in the early days of the University.


	11. Chapter 11

There was a lurching sensation, as if the universe had tripped on its feet but managed to catch itself before falling on its face. The air smelt worryingly cold. Timothy opened his eyes and all those long dormant memories of warning burst into his head like distant relatives came round on holiday. As they bustled around his mind, knocking everything over and winking and the scandalised former occupants, Timothy turned around slowly.

The gigantic things surrounding him watched him with a horrible blank hunger. Spittle dripped onto the sand beneath them, although the thick liquid didn't always seem to come from mouths and Timothy prayed it wasn't something other than saliva. He felt his stomach churn when he tried to determine which orifices _were_ mouths, and so he stopped.

He began to actively ignore the chitinous legs and tentacles, the fur and mottled skin, when he came to a startling realisation. _They're not attacking me! _ He wanted to start skipping and screaming in relief.

The blue-green orb of some sort of eye drifted towards him. The glowing circle that Vord had drawn on the floor in the lecture theatre surrounded him here, only it crackled on the black sand. Timothy held down the manic laughter that pushed up his throat and reached out a hand to the eye. His hand shook wildly and the eye moved away. Timothy moved closer to the edge of the circle. The thronging heads bent nearer.

Timothy's hand began to feel cold and the stars grew huge and bright, like holes in the sky that led to a white hot furnace. Timothy swallowed and lowered his hand. Though none of the things had enough recognisable features for him to see a face, Timothy knew they were disappointed.

Part of the circle changed colour. Beyond the new red part of the circle, the things moved away. Timothy stepped forward.

The lecture theatre seemed flat in comparison. Timothy stared at Vord who nodded at him. He looked out over the remaining students. _Was it real?_ He asked himself. _Would he really risk all our lives? _He looked back at the wizard. Vord was watching Randall approach the circle, with a gleam in his dark eyes. _Of course he would_, Timothy answered himself.

He stopped with his hand on the doorknob to the successful room, where all the other worthy students had assembled. Hopefully.

Timothy caught Vord's eye again and made gestures that he hoped would be interpreted as 'Is it alright if I watch him, he's my friend?' Actually Vord thought the youth was saying 'I'm frozen in terror, can the next guy help me move?' But thankfully this led to the same result, Vord ignoring Timothy.

Randall grinned at his friend. He winked and gave a thumbs-up then turned to the other students and said, 'Easy, just you watch.' Vord narrowed his eyes. Timothy's throat felt like a knot of tension. Randall stepped into the circle.

----

Timothy waited.

He waited to see Randall step out of the circle, full of himself and still confident enough to face the worst the world could throw at him. Timothy realised that he couldn't imagine a world where Randall wasn't willing to risk…

Slowly, his mouth opened in horror. He tried waving his arms to catch Vord's attention again but the wizard was staring into the circle. Just before Timothy decided to run over, Vord shook his head. The circle flared and a horrible smell of barbeque insinuated through the room.

Vord surveyed the remaining students.  
'Generally, it is good for a wizard to be sure of himself,' he said. 'He will be working with dangerous magic and doubt can mean the difference between success and,' he paused to glance at the circle. 'Disaster.' He steepled his fingers. Timothy thought he saw a slight smile in the man's face before he continued.  
'However, part of that includes being aware of your limitations. The rest of you may want to think very carefully about how far you could push your abilities as you wait for your turn.'

Timothy couldn't feel the doorknob beneath his fingers as he turned it and drifted through to the next room.

A group of students moved towards him, their smiles and congratulations fading from their lips as they took in Timothy's pale face.  
'Are you alright Spot?' asked a student Timothy was fairly sure he had never met. 'What happened?'

All around the room students turned to watch him, sausage rolls stuck halfway to mouths, paper hats askew.  
'Randall's dead,' said Timothy.

----

As more students came through the door a party-like atmosphere began to re-establish itself, but it was subdued. After telling a few others what he had seen, Timothy retreated to a corner and watched as the gossip spread around the room. He wondered if it changed much as it passed from person to person. In his experience, rumour generally added some scandalous element to ensure its survival.

There was one window, set high in the wall near the ceiling, but it wasn't long before a queue had formed and students took turns to stick their hands through and flail a quick semaphore off to the nearest tower. Timothy caught glimpses through the small window but couldn't be sure what the words were, so he amused himself by filling in the blanks. _Student died. He stole another's girlfriend._ Timothy almost smiled. _The mention of a girlfriend will cause more shock than the death,_ he thought.

Eventually Vord followed a student into the room and held his arms wide open. He smiled and his eyes twinkled.

'Well done gentlemen, very well done! You have passed the test to become initiates to the Ancient and Truly Original Order of the Silver Star. Technically that was merely proof that you are a worthy candidate for the Order. To actually become initiates you must consider the following pledge.' He spoke slowly as he copied the pledge onto the room's blackboard.

'I am willing to join the AaTOOotSS under whatever conditions deemed necessary by my elder brethren. Until such time as I graduate and become a full member of the Order I will follow the instructions of my senior brothers in the Order.'  
He glanced over his shoulder at the students. 'I got them to add that second part. I want you all to bear in mind that you are not full members of the Order yet.' His eyes seemed to bore through Timothy's, exposing the tangle of confusion in the young man's head.

The party continued, with Vord moving among the students to explain the rules for initiates. Timothy watched him, brushing off other who tried to talk with him. _He's dangerous. But he's also my best chance at getting through,_ he thought. _Without him I'll just slack off whenever someone asks me too. I've got to get on his side. _He sipped at his wine and began to plan his future at Unseen University.


	12. Chapter 12

The wizard Gerrick rubbed his stomach through his robes, exactly like the better class of villain strokes its powder puff cat when the hero finally blunders. Like most of the wizards at Unseen University, Gerrick took great comfort in the constant meals served in the Great Hall. Afternoon tea had been particularly pleasant. He had joked with some of the other members of the Order about the silly trials they had all under-taken during their own initiations. He had enjoyed the story about the wizards who had been kidnapped and held four three days in a tiny room. _I wouldn't have blubbered about it,_ he told himself, just like most people who haven't suffered than a harsh word since their childhood tell themselves every day.

Some of the older wizards had seemed puzzled by the talk of paddling ('Really? How did they stick the damn thing in the Ankh then?' 'Not that sort of paddle, sir.') but Gerrick was used to more terrifying types of senility. One wizard in a room near his had finally forgotten his species. Normally this sort of thing will result in much embarrassed clearing of throats while the aged member of the family wanders around the room smelling the seat of everyone's trousers, but in Unseen University the magic in the background created a much more malleable situation. Due to the wizard in question's desire to please and the severe discomfort his guests felt as their host's nose and ears grew into an elephant's and his tusks knocked over the teapot, he tended to stay in his rooms alone. But nothing could replace the memory of Vord's attitude to a horrible death which kept rising in Gerrick's mind like an angry turtle in a bathtub. _Those eyes,_ he thought. _They're nothing compared to that dwarf's at the delicatessen in Gleam Street._

A fluttering movement by the window brought him back to where he was. A little further down the corridor a student was waving his clacks flags rapidly by the window like some sort of psychotic windmill. Gerrick opened his mouth to the boy off when his mind started translating the flag positions automatically. Despite the generally bovine nature of the wizarding body this feat is not as unusual as it may sound. However, the subconscious mind is a devious thing, capable of many astounding feats in its never-ending quest to stop the flesh around it from bumbling into mortal danger. The flags flapped into well-known positions: O. O. T. S. S. K. I. L. L. E. D.

'What was that?' He yelled as he leapt over to the window. The student yelped and dropped his flags to the floor.  
'I'm sorry sir, I know we aren't supposed to, it's just that…'  
'Never mind all that,' Gerrick waved aside the student's explanations. 'Was that O.O.T.S.S. as in Order of the Silver Star?'  
The student's eyes flickered sideways, looking for a way out.  
'Uh… Yes?' he ventured.'Then what was all that about "killed"?'  
'It was just a clacks message I got a moment ago. I was forwarding it to some of my friends at the HEM building.' He knelt down to pick up his flags. Gerrick tried not to reach out and grab the scruff of the young man's neck.  
'Well?' he snapped. 'What did the whole clacks say?'

The student sighed. 'It said "Initiation OOTSS killed 1 student.' That's all.'  
Gerrick felt his throat tightening. His stomach gurgled unhappily. 'Don't go spreading rumours like that. You can't be sure that they're even true.' Vord's insidiously smiling face appeared in Gerrick's head.  
'I got it from someone at the initiation sir.'  
'Still.' Gerrick began to stride away. 'Just wait until you're sure before you pass one stories about people being killed.

----

Vord strolled away from the initiation rooms, pleased with the outcome. He didn't see the student with the massive mole watch him leave before closing the door, cutting off the muted sounds of students celebrating. All the students who had passed now had a better appreciation of the perils of wizardry. He stifled a grin. _A much better appreciation._ He rubbed his hands together and moved with purpose around the corner just in time to be bowled over by a red-faced wizard.

'Gerrick! What on the disc has you in such a hurry?'  
'Vord!' The other wizard seemed to choke in surprise. 'I was going to see… Er, that is to say, I was just… What are you doing?' He fidgeted with his plump fingers and looked down the hallway.  
'I just finished the initiation. I was going to go and relax in my rooms.'  
'Relax in your rooms, really? That's good, that's good.'  
Gerrick's forehead shone softly. 'How are you settling in to the rooms then?'

'Fine, I suppose. It's a little smaller than you get used while travelling through Howondaland.'  
'Yes, I imagine it would be very different in the jungles.'  
Vord stared at him. 'Oh, I don't know. Some of the dumber animals reminded me of home. But it is nice to not have to deal with the bitemes all the time.'  
'What's a biteme?'  
'Well, they're small insects, invisible really. Almost like little annoying dots, and they bite you all the time. It sometimes gets so bad that you have to wear clothes that cover every inch of skin.' Vord watched Gerrick's nervous eyes moving back and forth. 'Which, as you can imagine, gets rather hot and… Look, am I holding you up?'  
'What?' Gerrick blinked. He swallowed and put his hands behinds his back. Vord watched the other man's shoulder continue to move. 'No, no, not at all.'  
'You haven't been able to hold still since you tried to walk over me. There must be something on your mind.'

Gerrick looked down the hallway they were standing in. He must have seen something in the bare stone walls that Vord didn't because he stopped shuffling and turned to look Vord in the eye. His face was still flushed and his beard still bristled like some form of woolly cactus, reminding Vord of some he had encountered in the frozen deserts deep in Klatch. But his eyes were hard as he said, 'I heard a rumour. I was hoping to check it out.'  
Vord was the one glancing down the corridor now.  
'I heard that one of the students died during your initiation,' said Gerrick.  
Vord didn't swallow, no matter how much his throat clenched. He didn't flinch or look away, no matter how his eyes burned. _How in the world did he know that!_ Vord mentally refocused. _No, that's not important. How could this get in my way?_

'That's an interesting thing to say. How could you have heard a story like that when I only just left the initiation? Most of the students are still in there.' He nodded behind him to the distant door.  
'I oversaw a clacks from a student.' Gerrick shrugged at the question and stepped closer. 'Is it true?' he murmured his face hard as stone.  
'A clacks, I should have guessed.'  
'That's not the important part Vord. What is important is whether or not you killed a student.'  
'Well, I can put your mind at rest on that point at least. I didn't kill any of the students.'  
Gerrick blinked. 'Oh. Oh good, I mean, I am sorry, I just assumed that…'  
'No, he died because of his own arrogance. Entirely his own fault.'

Vord stepped around the other wizard in order to leave. 'Unless there was anything else?'  
Gerrick's head didn't move. His mouth drooped open like an animal known for its lack of brain. Vord couldn't think of anything more appropriate than "wizard" which made him disappointed with himself. _I have a better command of language than that.  
_'Something else,' said Gerrick, 'No, I wouldn't want to keep you. Enjoy the room.'  
'Actually friend, the rooms could do with something of a renovation. All those tiny gods watching me from the walls gets a little intimidating.'  
'Why? Do you have something on your conscience to make you worried?'  
Vord smiled. 'What, something that could get a bunch of cannibalistic and barbaric gods angry with me? I may have excused myself after burping, but I can't think of anything else. Now, can you suggest anyone to help redecorate.'  
'The Redecorator's Guild isn't far from the Tailor's Guild, somewhere by Stitch Street I think.'  
'Excellent. I'll see you later Gerrick.'  
'Yes.' Gerrick watched Vord stroll off down the hall. _Where is Ted? I need to talk to Ted._


	13. Chapter 13

Timothy shut the door. One of the other students carried an extra drink over to him. Timothy took it gratefully.  
'Hey Spot. How are you holding up?' said the student.  
_Gary, isn't it?_ thought Timothy. He sniffed and shook his head a little. 'I'm fine really. I mean, why wouldn't I be?'  
'Well, you were Randall's friend weren't you?' said Maybe-Gary. 'You seemed pretty shaken up when you told us about it.'

Timothy thought about Randall and the casual way his roommate had managed to take over their tiny room in a few short weeks, despite the fact that he was almost never there. Timothy remembered the piles of dirty laundry that somehow edged menacingly closer without ever actually moving until he had tucked his desk into the one remaining corner. He remembered a particular occasion when he had been forced to use the window to write notes, figuring thaumatalogical equations with a wax crayon, because Randall had covered any level writing surface with used dishes and burnt all the paper on a pyromanical whim. The git had walked in and taunted Timothy until he had felt like throwing his desk through the window, just to get a reaction. Of course, being a young student (and a wizarding student at that) there was no way he was going to be physically able to. But still, the thought was there. And now Randall was gone, almost as if he had never existed.

Timothy breathed deeply. 'I guess he was the closest thing I had to a friend here. But we were never that close.' He looked past maybe-Gary to the faces of the other students. Although they were smiling, laughing at little jokes in their groups, he could see eyes flickering to him and quickly away again. He forced himself to smile and leaned in to murmur in maybe-Gary's ear.  
'I think this Vord guy is going to be one of the best teachers at the University.'  
'What, him?' Gary nearly yelled but Timothy managed to calm him with a look. He continued in a whisper. 'The guy who just killed a student to make a point? I think the sight of those creatures might have put you into a wee bit of shock, Spot.'  
'I told you, I'm fine. Close to fine anyway.' Timothy coughed. 'I'll just go take a moment to myself soon. But I really think Vord has a lot to teach us.'  
'Then by all rights we should steer well clear of him. You won't need to ask me twice (1).'  
'No, I think we should find out what classes he's got and try to transfer in. It'd be helpful, I'm telling you.'  
The other student looked doubtful but nodded. 'I'll tell the others but I don't think they'll see things in quite the same way.'  
'That's their loss.' Timothy turned and left the room. He felt very tired. _And my gain_ he realised.

----

Vord was sitting in what had been one of Brin's chairs but was now, according to the shabby will they had found tucked into a sock drawer, appeared to be the only chair of the Grobi Tribe of the Brown Islands. His notebooks lay strewn across the table in front of him, open to reveal pages of tiny handwriting or quick sketches. More than the average number of pages appeared to be singed along the edges too. The strange objects Brin had spent his life collecting were shoved to one side, their sharp grins heaped on top of angular wooden animals. A large mask glared at Vord from the top of the pile.

Gerrick was becoming more inquisitive than Vord would have liked. He wondered how quickly Gerrick would actually become a problem. _He seemed like such a sheep at that meeting, so docile. What was it old McGuire had said about the sheep up Lancre way? Something about wolves, wasn't it? Then again, Gerrick had been expecting Ted and the other high mucky-mucks. And he must have been firm with the Watch to keep them from poking their noses in. That what McGuire said! They may look like cotton-wool with legs, but he saw ewes kill wolves if they had to protect their own._ He rocked back on the chair but it was unfortunately made of very solid wood and heavy cloth covered in gold embroidery, not too mention the high back with its elaborate carvings. He quickly reached the point of balance, crossed it, and fell to the floor.

The moment the chair hit the floor his door burst open and five exquisitely dressed men swarmed in. They were talking brightly amongst themselves and they began to throw everything in the room into a pile in the middle of the floor. Vord struggled to his feet as they bustled over him.  
'Hey! Who are you – Hey, be careful, that's my bag of – No, I haven't considered shaving off the beard, what's _wrong_ with you?' Vord tried to keep up with all five voices babbling around him but floundered quickly.

One of the men strode off into the kitchen and Vord could hear the crash of dishes hitting the floor. Another of the mew, with shoulder length blond hair, squealed as he fingered Vord's clothing in ways that made Vord very nervous.  
'Do you mind?' he asked the man.  
'You know I don't sugar!' replied the man.  
A third man tipped over the table, spilling ancient terracotta idols to the floor with a smash that would have any museum curator waking up in the middle of the night covered in a chill sweat even years after he had retired and no longer had to worry about anything more stressful than whether or not the climate was better for hydrangeas or geraniums. In the centre of the room the last two were giggling over a small object. From what Vord could see through their fingers it appeared to be some sort of three legged god.

'Who the hell are you people?' Vord bellowed. At once the four in the room stopped their rummaging and clustered around Vord like those damned children he had had to deal with during his travels. _Always claiming they were hungry and yet they had roundest pot bellies I've ever seen,_ he thought  
'We're the flamboyant five, the top redecorators from the guild,' said the blonde, shaking out his hair. 'You did send for us didn't you Vordy-Pordy?'  
'Vordy-Pordy? I beg your pardon but -'  
'There's no need to beg darling, I'll pardon you any time,' interrupted one of the others. He turned to the man next to him and said, 'I've never been able to turn down such pretty green eyes.'  
'That's lucky, because he's got brown eyes.'  
'Oh.' The first man turned back and peered at Vord's eyes. 'Well, I suppose he does have to beg then, doesn't he?'  
The pair whooped and slapped their hands together.

'Look,' said Vord. 'I thought I sent a clacks to the Redecorators' Guild not the Fools' Guild!'  
'Oo, someone's getting all tetchy,' said the blonde man. 'Let's all just take a breather.' He held out his hand. 'Good afternoon Vord. My name is Tad and this is Jack, Butch and Michaela.'  
'Hey, not yet!'  
'Sorry. This is Michael.'  
Jack and Butch laughed. 'You'll never have the essential minerals to go for the change.'  
'Well exactly,' said Michael. 'That's the point isn't it?'  
Vord stared at Michael. _That is makeup, I'm almost sure…_ There was another smash from the kitchen.  
'Oh yes,' said Tad. 'And that's Julian.'

----

Eventually Vord managed to clear away some of the confusion the men had dragged in with them.  
'Okay. So, you redecorate by surprise?'  
'Sort of, sweetie. We wait until we're invited and then that's the last piece of input you get.'  
'We're a little like vampires,' said Jack.  
'Only less young women running around screaming in their underwear,' added Butch.  
'Unless you count me after a few too many margaritas,' hooted Michael.  
'Right,' said Vord. He looked around the room. He curtains had been torn down, smashed artefacts covered the floor and many of Vord's own possessions had joined the sprawling pile. 'It looks better already.'  
'Good,' said Michael. 'You come with Tad, Butch and me while Jack and Julian clean this up. We'll change you into a new man in no time.'  
'Not too soon I hope,' said Jack, licking his lips.

----

Vord walked with the trio through some of the less familiar streets of Ankh-Morpork. He felt a nagging feeling at the back of his head, like something was out of place.  
'Excuse me Butch, how long have the signs in this street been decorated with pink streamers?'  
'Not long at all, maybe a week or two. They're getting ready for the Pride Parade.'  
'Really? I would have thought they'd have chosen a stronger colour then pink.' _I've been gone for longer than I thought_ he told himself and then promptly forgot about the decorations.

The first store they went into sold furniture. Vord looked around at the sensible wood on display and frowned.  
'Where's the ambience? This all looks very functional but the first dribbly candle I put down will start a fire.'  
'That's actually something I wanted to talk to you about,' said Butch. 'It's actually possible to get candles that don't go all dribbly as soon as you light them? Apparently they stay long and thin. Give an excellent light I'm told. How does that idea sound?'  
Vord glared. 'How are they at staying balanced on skulls?'  
'Do you know, I must have forgotten to ask about that?'

After introducing Butch to the Warehouse of the Damned ("If we aren't smiling when you purchase your magical accoutrements you receive one free stuffed alligator!") the group headed towards Stitch Street. Vord was beginning to feel quite good about this redecorating thing.

----

(1) - Just like in less magical centres of education, it is traditional for students to avoid any actual learning for as long as possible. This doesn't generally cause a problem as most teachers prefer to avoid teaching also. And thus the delicate balance of educations holds firm. Until some moron gets it in their head that they have something to teach that absolutely must be passed on, whereupon things get sticky.


	14. Chapter 14

The tailor's shop was cramped and dim. The only windows were at the front of the store, facing the street. But it was full of rolls of gaudy fabric on display and the glass looked like it hadn't been cleaned since the Ankh-Morpork civil war. Vord had been sure he saw some monarchist propaganda scrawled by finger in the grime.

He found it difficult to squeeze past the mannequins and bolts of cloth that clogged the inside of the store. Somewhere in the darkness ahead of him Butch and Tad were talking. He was about to call out when he tripped on a disembodied arm. He pulled his robes up above his knees so he could manoeuvre better then looked at the objects stacked everywhere around him and even hanging from the ceiling.

'Tad?'  
'Yes puddin''?  
Vord clenched his hands. 'I thought you said that we were going to get me some clothes?'  
'We are darling.'  
'But there aren't any clothes here.'

Michael and Butch put their hands over their mouths and snorted. Tad weaved his way back through the clutter like a shark moving through muddy shallows, swift and dangerous. He reached Vord and put an arm around the wizard's shoulders.

'Of not sweetie, Fashion moves far too quickly for William to waste time making something that isn't going to be worn that same night.'  
Vord's forehead wrinkled. 'Doesn't that mean that, even if I do get a new outfit from him, it will be out of date by tomorrow?'  
'Darling, by tomorrow it'll have been in, out, so out that the Beggar's Guild wouldn't take it and finally retro which is the same as in and you can wear it again once. But after that it's up to you to stay on the cutting edge.'  
William the tailor held up a pair of unfeasibly large scissors from the far end of the room. The blades shone. As Tad helped Vord get through the store the wizard wondered, _how the hell did any light get all the way down there?_

_---- _

William was an excellent example of the tailor's Guild, Vord had to admit. It wasn't long before Vord had been measured on every part of his body that could conceivably need clothing. At first the small wrinkled tailor had made motions for Vord to take off his robes but the wizard had quickly made it clear that that wasn't an option. Then Tad and Michael had started making comments about Vord's figure as the tailor stretched his measuring tape. He was glad when William finally said 'alright, that's all I need sir.'

Vord rearranged his robes as William noted down the figures.  
'So, when do I get my new clothes?' he asked.  
'Next week,' muttered the old man as he hunched back behind a pile of scraps that Vord assumed covered a workbench.  
'A week?' He rounded on Tad. 'I thought you said Fashion gets outdated overnight?'  
'Please sugar, relax. William is the best. It takes everyone else a week just to catch up.'  
Vord pursed his lips. 'Fine… Where are you taking me next?'  
'Back to your place,' said Butch. 'We're going to turn your apartments into the most fashionable three rooms in Ankh-Morpork!'

----

On Thimble Street Vord noticed a flash of blonde hair in the crowd ahead of them. A Watch helmet shone almost as bright above it and below… Vord swallowed thickly.

'Since when do they allow women in the Watch?' he asked.  
Michael scanned the crowd for a second, looking for what had caught Vord's eye. 'Oh, you mean Angua? They didn't want to let her in, but she has a certain je ne sais quois that wouldn't be refused, as they say in Pseudopolis. I'm grateful personally. She opened the way for all of us.'

Vord began to walk at an angle away from Michael then realised that this brought him closer to Tad. He contemplated heading toward Butch before deciding that, of the three men he was with, he found none less concerning than any of the others.  
'I feel like I've seen her before, but I can't think where,' he said.  
'Let's find out,' said Butch. 'Hey, Angua! Over here!'

The woman turned sharply and Vord found himself staring into one of the most penetrating gazes he'd ever come across. _She's worse than that witch doctor with the mushrooms_, he thought. Angua moved through the press of people to them and Vord noticed how the crowd moved carefully out of her way.

'Hello Butch. Is there a problem?' She didn't take her eyes off Vord.  
'Not at all. Our new friend Vord here thought he recognised you. Can you think why he might know you?'  
'Vord. The wizard? Recently returned to Ankh-Morpork?'  
He nodded.  
'We haven't met before. But I have heard quite a bit about you.' She sniffed. 'I've been looking into a death over at Unseen University. Maybe that's where you saw me?'

_She's right._ Vord remembered her now, a few days ago in the Great Hall. He'd watched the Watchman… watchwoman… go up to a few wizards during breakfast. _She's the nosey one._ He smiled at her.  
'That must be it. It's a pleasure to meet you my dear.' He held out his hand. She took it in a firm grip and shook once. _I have to make sure Gerrick keeps her occupied._

'It was nice to finally get a face to match to the name,' Angua said. She smiled and Vord was disturbed by the remarkably pointed nature of her very-white teeth. She exchanged a few meaningless pleasantries with the other three then moved off into the citizenry again.

As they continued back to the University, Vord found he couldn't get her teeth out of his mind. So he asked the question that kept rising in his mind.  
'No way!' answered Michael. 'There's no way Angua's a vampire! I've personally seen her in the brightest sunlight, eating garlic, you name it. I mean, come on, how could she be a watchman… watchwoman… if she could only go into places she had been invited?'  
'It would make raids slightly inconvenient,' Vord conceded.

----

The four of them were soon back in the halls of Unseen University, walking past groups of wizards and student talking together. Vord realised one of the wizards was giving him a funny look, part suspicion, part awe. Why is he the only one? Vord had to remind himself to take slow steps.

They stopped outside his apartment.  
'Shut your eyes Vord, we're about to shock you with a fantastic new life,' said Tad, with his hand on the doorknob. Vord sighed and did as he was told.  
Tad swung the door open. 'Well, are you gob smacked?'  
Vord opened his eyes. 'That's one way of putting it.'  
'Tad, what on the disc!' Michael shrieked.

The room beyond the door was even more of a shambles than it had been before they left. There were harsh wounds in the walls and pieces of furniture, old and new, lay scattered across the floor; there was even a massive set of drawers balanced upside down on one of its corners. Julian was crawling towards the door, his tattered clothes revealing bruises and grazes. He held out a hand and moaned, 'what happened?'  
'What do you mean what happened?' Butch raced inside to help Julian stand up. 'That's what I was going to ask you!'  
Tad and Michael moved in to watch the corners of the room as Butch and Julian came out. Vord just smiled and crossed his arms.

'Where's Jack?' Tad asked Julian.  
'I don't know. I heard squealing and a door slam, but I was in the kitchen…'  
Vord stepped forward. 'I imagine he's alright, though he may have fled far from the University by now.  
The redecorators looked at him. 'How in the world could you know that?' asked Butch.  
'I don't know for sure,' admitted Vord. 'But it certainly seems that your guild doesn't have up to date information on redecorating for wizards.' He strolled closer to the group, fingering his beard. 'Touching things that didn't want to be touched. Opening things that should stay closed. Being where you shouldn't be.' His eyes bored into the four.

'Go on,' he said, stepping aside. 'I'm sure you'll meet Jack back at the guild. If not, let me know and I'll see what I can do.  
As Vord watched them stagger down the hallway with surprising speed, he remembered something. 'Oh, thank you for all these wonderful new thing by the way! You've been very helpful.'  
He chuckled as he shut the door then turned to survey the room. He rubbed his hands together and descended with purpose on his books of notes, strewn over the floor.


	15. Chapter 15

Sorry its been over a year. My wife left me. Still, the story goes on eventually.

* * *

Sitting in the ruins of his room, Vord gathered his notes together. He shuffled them into order and piled them on the table. Every few minutes he would stretch his arms over his head until finally there was a teetering stack in front of him. Something glittered beneath the table. He rubbed his eyes and reached down for it. 

A ragged scrap of cloth, covered in sequins. _Ah_. He held it up to the faint light that snuck in the windows. The sequins sparkled like spider eyes, observing a merrily buzzing fly. Vord sighed and looked at the broken idols and askew furniture around him. _I better clean this up properly_.

By the time he had sorted the irredeemably ruined from the merely savaged, night had covered Ankh-Morpork. As usual, the city failed to notice. Neither did Vord, but that may have had more to do with the massive wall squatting outside his window. The gentle silence of Old Tom tolling eleven o'clock stopped him as he righted a fallen chair.

Most of the room was clear, except for a few stacks of Brin's old possessions against one wall. _That'll do for tonight _he told himself. _And next time_, he decided, _get the servants to do the cleaning_. He moved to the bedroom. _Or better yet, the students_.

--

Unseen University's library is the foremost collection of magical texts on the Disc. None of the Klatchian collections come close, but Klatchian wizards do tend to a more acerbic interaction with their peers. Unseen University Alumni may have forgotten beneath the padding wrought by decades of suet based snacks, but the library becomes a sort of neutral testing ground for wizards of sufficient ability and this allows mundane civilisation to continue around them.

That is to say, officials may be exhumed, the poor may go hungry, the Dibbler may pass off toenail clippings as sacred relics but at least they all know they will wake up tomorrow as humans and not animated candelabras. This has previously been known to happen.

So, instead, senior wizards will write down everything they know about a subject and introduce a new book to the library shelves. Over time, through a process referred to as literary evolution [1 the most potent works will achieve a notoriety that their authors ask in.

That morning Vord walked into the library carrying a number of papers tied by string. He paused just inside the doorway. _Ah, the heavy sound of literature_. From deep in the aisles he could hear the sound of pages turning, wizards browsing the shelves and, faintly, the scream of a lost wanderer. He breathed in the dusty air and made his way to the librarian's desk.

On the corner of the desk a large dog-eared catalogue was growling. The librarian was trying to entice it nearer with a shiny leather bookmark and hiding a massive ink-stained book-stamp behind his back. Vord stopped a few yards away to watch.

_Clearly this is why those marshmallows were laughing at the Order meeting. The librarian is a monkey_. The librarian looked up sharply and starred into Vord's face. The wizard kept his face still as he took a second glance over the hairy figure. _No tail. Ape? Orangutan, they had some in that really damp jungle rimwards_. He smiled without showing his teeth.

'Good morning. I assume that, as the librarian, you do understand me?'  
'Ook.'  
Vord grimaced. 'And I'll go to assume that that means yes, shall I?' He stepped closer to the desk, keeping his distance from the still growling volume at the end, and held up his papers. 'I was wondering if you could help me. I'm planning on putting together a book on the fire magic of Klatch and Howandaland.'

The librarian nibbled thoughtfully on the leather bookmark then very deliberately leaned over to wallop the catalogue with the stamp. He scooped the stunned book into a sack and tied it shut. As he knuckled off towards the shelves he beckoned to Vord, a manoeuvre requiring all the precision of a formal military parade to achieve and quite nearly as spectacular to watch.

Soon enough the librarian had returned the book to its shelf where it lay whimpering as its neighbour nudged it comfortingly. Then librarian led Vord to a private reading table.  
'Ook,' he said, indicating the papers in Vord's arms.  
'Of course.' Vord handed them over. 'I think I have them sorted and written out in sufficient detail. All that should be needed now is to arrange the book to be written.'  
'Ook,' the librarian agreed as he leafed through the pages.  
He peered up at Vord who was unsettled by the focus of those black eyes.  
'Ook,' asked the librarian.

'Yes it is rather urgent. I should have a class soon and I'd like to refer to – May I ask why you're laughing?'  
The librarian waved at him to continue, but his shoulders didn't stop shaking.  
'Yes. Well. As I was saying, as soon as humanely possible would be best, thank you.' Vord noted the librarian's upraised eyebrow. 'As soon as apely possible, excuse me,' he corrected himself.

The librarian set the paper's down on the table between them and nodded.  
'Ook. Ook ook-ook.'  
Vord smiled. 'Thank you very much, I'm glad to know that my work is in such capable hands.'  
He reached over and shook the librarian's hand, which caused the librarian to blink twice. Then Vord stood and marched out of the library.

The librarian looked at his hand for a moment then at the shape disappearing out the doors. He reached behind his shoulders and scratched his left earlobe with his right hand and then picked up the paper and started towards one of his hideaways in the shelves. The fur on his shoulders was standing up in a spiky clump.

--

[1 - Which consists of very nearly equal parts scholarly dispute and pitched book battle.


	16. Chapter 16

Ted's office was just like the very few offices Vord had ever found himself in: boring. A few paintings of parochial landscapes that hung behind the desk were clearly intended to lighten up the room and perhaps even indicate that the occupant wasn't simply a well dressed shell, with no substance inside. Of course, Vord wasn't fooled by this ruse. Ted was no more a real person with a soul worth noting than the portraits in the hall outside. Now, some of those paintings HAD been subjected to some sort of magical experimentation and the eyes would track people as they passed, which is unnerving enough in a painting that achieves the effect through the skill of the painter. Vord had nearly dived for cover behind a nearby pedestal supporting an agatean vase when a voice had softly risen from a painting on the wall.  
'What do you mean "Password"?' he had asked of the rotund female in the painting but when she refused to answer he snorted, straightened his robes and moved on to Ted's office.

_Ah yes, the Head of the Order._ Vord knew the type. The sort of man who responds to crisis with committee, a man who finds himself physically unable to mouth the words approving spending, even from money raised solely for the spending in the first place. A man with paintings of cows in cabbage fields on his walls in the hopes of showing character. True, he _was_ a wizard, and that should mean that his brain had been exercised, a least for a short period during his youth. Vord resolved to be careful.

A few trappings of Ted's youth were still in evidence in the office. Worthy and well-tamed tomes of magic sat on plinths to either side of his desk. The usual tiny alligator hung from the ceiling near the door. It was very well polished though, no patchy threadbare reptile corpse for this office.

'Well well Vord. It seems like you've really been shaking things up since you got back.'  
Vord glanced at Gerrick. He was standing behind Ted's chair and so great was his desire to keep distance between himself and Vord that he had almost passed _through_ the wall he was pressed against. _What stupid thing have you said now, you old buffoon_ Vord wondered.

'It's always been my belief that if you want to get things done you have to do it yourself, sir. No point in waiting for others to hand you what you want on a silver platter.' _Although it hasn't been much harder than that so far_ he added privately.  
'Indeed. I have heard the expression before Vord, but it was another common phrase that I found more pertinent in the current circumstances. Perhaps you would like to take a guess? I'll give you a hint; it's to do with eggs.'  
'Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall, sir?'  
'"You can't make an omelette without breaking a few eggs", dammit! What the hell do you think you are playing at Vord? Well?'

Sweat poured off Gerrick's forehead. _You are a paranoid person aren't you_ thought Vord. _Have you managed to find some evidence about Brin… No, my appointment would have been cancelled. Until later, at least._  
'Sir, I'm not sure I understand.'  
'The students man, this business of joining the Order! Gerrick tells me a student died during the session, which YOU were running.'  
'Well, yes. And?'

Ted's cheeks puffed out and his eyes bulged. He stood up and pointed a quivering finger across the desk at Vord.  
'We Do Not Kill "Our Students, Vord! They Aren't Eggs!'  
'I didn't kill the cocky little fool though.'  
'What?' Ted slumped back into his chair then turned a confused stare on Gerrick, who was shrugging and shaking his head, clearly nonplussed.

'No. It was his own fault. He tried to pit his meagre learning against creatures from the Dungeon Dimensions. The outcome was never in question."  
'Wait, Dungeon Dimensions? I thought you were initiating the students, not giving them some sort of practical lesson?'  
'Yes, that's right. But we don't want students who don't understand their limitations in the Order do we?' Vord and Ted stared at each other across the desk.

'That's unconscionable Vord, we have no right to put mere students in a position where they either measure up to your obtuse standards or die.'  
'Plenty of the students who attempted the test failed without dying sir, even though they didn't meet my standards. He was the only fatality.'

Ted steepled his fingers and looked at the ceiling. 'So, if I am to understand what you are telling me correctly, this student was likely to act outside the bounds of magical protocol regardless of the situation you put him in?'  
Vord smiled. _The bureaucrat has emerged to begin composing tomorrow's memos._  
'I think that's a very astute summary sir.'

'Sir, I hardly think that we can excuse such a horrible-'  
Ted silenced Gerrick with a chopping motion. 'The simpler this is, the less I have to worry about sorting it out Gerrick. We can't change what happened now can we!'  
'But sir,' Gerrick gulped and tried not to look at Vord. 'I've been looking into Brin's death and I just thought-'  
'Oh yes, that terrible business. Why have you been thinking about that? I thought that was an accident?'  
'Well sir, that's the thing. Remember the Watch wanted to ask around about it?'  
'Oh yes, and you thought that it would be best to keep the whole thing between us. Have you found yourself a murderer then have you?' Ted started laughing at his little joke and Vord chuckled along, staring into Gerrick's eyes.  
'Uh… No, not a murderer. Yet,' said the large wizard.

'Oh, so you do think that there's something more to that business do you?' Ted turned in his chair to better observe Gerrick who had apparently finally emptied his body of all fluid and was unable to sweat any more. The last few drops of perspiration were glistening keenly on his skin. _I wouldn't even know what the man looks like when he's dry _though Vord.

'I, uh, I have my… Um. Well, I have what you might call "my suspicions".' He couldn't stop himself glancing towards Vord.  
'Sir,' began Vord. 'This doesn't sound like it concerns me.'  
Gerrick made a low whine as Vord paused. Ted took the opportunity to burst in.

'Well that is true Vord, you are free to go. And no more killing students!'  
'Of course not sir,' Vord bowed his head. 'But I did actually come to see you to make a request.'  
'I'm sorry?' A puzzled wave washed gently at the shores of Ted's forehead.  
'I made this appointment to see you sir? I wasn't summoned?'  
'Oh. Of course.' The tide receded and smoothed out the furrows from Ted's forehead. 'Go on.'  
'It's just that I was curious as to when I might get a class to teach?'

The silence that followed his words was quite nearly as deep and smothering as any of Old Tom's and Vord found himself wondering what time it was. Eventually he blinked a spoke again. 'I've been to see the Librarian, who said be would begin helping me turn my notes into a book, and I'd like to begin instructing students on its contents as soon as possible.'

Ted smacked his mouth once or twice and then his eyes cleared and he smiled widely. 'Oh I see! Yes, I quite understand my boy!' He grabbed a piece of paper from his desk and made a note. 'I'll let you know the details as soon as I've sorted something out. Is that all?'  
'Yes sir, that was all I needed right now.' Vord stared into Gerrick's eyes once more before he turned to leave. 'I'll see you right away if I have any trouble.'


	17. Chapter 17

Spot sat in his room, studying dutifully. An odd change had moved through the room. Where before the room had been busy with the detritus of two young men living in it, now very little clutter swamped the floor and almost nothing lined the desktops and shelves. There was less mess than one bachelor should be expected to make. What's more, all the clutter was packed into one side of the room.

Spot sat at his desk between two stacks of books and very carefully did anything except look at the unmade bed on the other side of the room.

There was a knock on the door. The knob turned and then it opened a small fraction to reveal the head of a student wizard.  
'What is it,' asked Spot.  
'I just saw someone posting some new lecture times on the notice board by the library. I know you've been wanting to get some edge on the rest of us so I thought I'd let you know.'  
Spot stared out the window, and then put his pen down.  
'Thanks man.'  
'No worries Spot.'

--

The notice board in the hallways outside the library was difficult to interpret. There was a rumour among the students that one possible path of the many they could take to ascend to the ranks of "Official Wizard" in lieu of actually completing their studies was to figure out the rules defining what notices were allowed on what parts of the notice board.

Spot stood in front of the notice board for approximately two hours. Then he managed to figure out that the scrap of paper marked "Klatchian Fire Magic" that was pinned haphazardly near the upper right corner had been placed there as part of the upcoming event column. It also lined up horizontally with other bonus lectures. From there it was only a short twenty minutes of cross checking the colour codes along the bottom of the board (and conveniently clumped towards the right) before he had realised that Vord, the only wizard with power worth emulating in the whole damned university, would be giving a series of lectures. They began in a week.

_Now that's a good way to figure out how to be a great wizard like him! Someone who takes power! _Spot ran to the office by the Great Hall to sign up straight away. _Alright! I can't wait to get in there and listen to him speaking, _Spot thought as he looked at the sheaf of papers he had been handed. _In Room 2B… Oh._ He stood still in the hall while student wizards swung semaphore flags and chased escaping textbooks around him.

--

The week passed uneventfully. The staff and students of Unseen University knew all about Room 2B. They all acknowledged that the only people who wanted to be at a lecture even less then the students were the lecturers. And so, arrangements were made. Room 2B was found on schedules and timetables throughout the University but, in point of fact, was not physically found among the many looping hallways and multidimensional wings of the University itself. Which was something of a marvel really, if one considered how many objects from alternate realities managed to turn up around some corner of the campus or other. There was even a special box for them at the Lost and Found.

Spot didn't bother trying to find a door to 2B. He had figured out the bureaucratic niceties that had resulted in classes no-one wanted to attend being scheduled in a room which allowed no attendance early on in his studies. But unlike his fellow students, who would have spent the time they saved by non-attending lectures in 2B doing something important (1) Spot was hoping for something more academic out of his student career. So, he found himself waiting in the corridors near what he was fervently hoping was Vord's room.

If it turned out to be some other wizard's room, Spot just hoped that they didn't find his loitering suspicious. If it turned out to be Professor Sam "Friendly Hands" Therty's room, Spot was ready to run. He had stretched his hamstrings before heading out. As it turned out, Spot's perseverance was rewarded.

Vord came purposefully out of the room, barely pausing to close the door with a solid thud, before striding away down the hall. Spot rushed to catch up with him and then matched his pace. They walked side by side; silently. It took a few intersections before Vord seemed to notice him.  
'Are you following me boy?'  
'Yes sir. I mean, no sir. Well. Sort of.'  
Vord rolled his eyes and Spot blushed.  
'Would you care to explain yourself more carefully? I may have to devise a suitable elaborate punishment for wasting my time. I'm supposed to be giving a lecture in a few minutes.'

'Exactly, exactly!' Spot nodded and the vigorous motion nearly sent his pointy hat flying. 'I've signed up for your lectures you see!'  
'Then why are you out here? By now you should be sitting in the auditorium, ready for me to begin speaking as soon as I walk through the door.'  
'That would be the best way to prepare for your lectures sir, I completely agree. It's just that, well, I'm not sure where to go for the lecture. You see-'

'Don't be ridiculous boy. 2B will be, funnily enough, between 2A and 2C. If you find that concept difficult then you may have to concentrate very hard if you want to get anything more than a buzzing noise in your ears out of my lectures.' Vord continued to march down the corridor, Spot trailing after him like an apologetic baby duck.

--

Spot wasn't sure if it was permissible to say "I told you so" to a senior wizard. And even if it was allowed, how exactly would one go about it? Simply dropping it into casual conversation would be too crass, surely. That's leaving aside any considerations for personal safety. Then Vord turned around and Spot decided that maybe it was best that he had kept his mouth shut.

'Boy, I've seen you around here before haven't I?'  
'Yes sir. You inducted me into the Order.'  
'Oh yes, one of the Initiates.' Spot thought he saw a tiny sneer cross the senior wizard's lip. Vord blinked and looked over Spot's shoulder for a second then refocused on the student.  
'Your name was Timmy wasn't it? You went through just before…' Vord paused.  
'Yes. That was me.'The pair looked at each other in a still moment. Then Vord smiled.

'Good, good. Where is 2B?'  
'There is no 2B sir. That was why I came to your rooms. They schedule things in 2B if no-one wants to attend, even the lecturers. I was hoping you'd want to teach me something anyway.'  
Vord's lips pressed together.  
'I will have something to teach you Timmy. But first I need to have some very stern words with another wizard. I think we'll try for this lecture thing again in a few days. Keep an eye on the notice boards.' With that, he set off back the way they had come. Spot watched him leaving. _He remembered my name!_

_-- _

Vord left Ted's office in a much better mood. Imagine thinking I didn't actually want to get into a class. _That I might desire to avoid moulding the minds of the next generation of wizards. I've already done these initiates a world of good by instilling the fear of magic _(2)_ into them, I can see it in their eyes._

He made his way down to the student dorms and asked around until he found the room of "that lad with the gigantic mole." He didn't knock before entering.

The boy sprang up from his desk and a blush spread up his neck and onto his cheeks. Vord wondered if the boy had been up to anything worth being embarrassed about or if blushing came as naturally to him as shedding skin did to a snake.

'Sit down boy; I just wanted to have a quick word.'  
He dropped himself on to the extra bed as there was only the one chair in the room and wondered why Timmy began to splutter.  
'I rearranged my lecture series to be given in a room that does physically exist. I wanted you to try and ensure that some of the shiftless layabouts who signed up, apparently in order to avoid real classes, actually show their faces.'  
'Wow, sir, I… I'm honoured. Why did you choose me?'

Vord looked around the strangely schizophrenic room as he answered. 'You were the one who turned up.' He looked into spot's eyes, barely glancing at the mole. 'Let everyone who signed up know I expect them there. Or else there _will_ be consequences.'  
With that he stood, dusted off his robes with his hands, and left Spot alone to consider how to motivate his fellow students.

It took awhile for Spot to clacks everyone who had signed up for Vord's lectures. Most of them had seen something scheduled for 2B and had jumped at the chance to have a legitimate "I-Have-A-Class" excuse AND catch up on some extra sleep. Spot managed to convince many of them to come by explaining that the wizard giving the lectures was the same one who had killed a student during the initiations and he expected attendance. For those who had somehow managed to miss out on the story concerning Vord's lethal methodology, Spot had an equally effective, if less based in verifiable fact, solution.

F.R.E.E.B.E.E.R.

_There_, he thought has he lowered his semaphore flags. _That should get everyone in. And I'd hate to be anyone who still decides not to come._

--

(1) Such as sneaking out to a local pub at ten thirty in the morning and completely forgetting any classes later that day.

(2) Similar to a fear of god but more self centred.


	18. Chapter 18

A week later Spot sat in the third row of a lecture theatre that actually existed. Student wizards filled the seats that stretched up behind and to either side of him like wings. He chewed nervously on his pencil, occasionally pausing to pick chips of wood out from between his teeth. Beside him sat the student with the bulbous eyes from the initiation.

Spot was carefully staring at the empty before him on the note desk that stretched across each row, hoping goldfish man wouldn't try to converse with him. _He's croaking_, he had thought in wide eyed panic as the student had squeezed past twelve others to claim the empty seat next to Spot. _Did he used to croak? What did we talk about last time? I thought he was a fish, not a frog! Gods, is the university turning him into some sort of amphibian?_

After a minute or two of fervent ignorance, the other student's attention shifted and Spot allowed himself a careful glance. Goldfish man had turned towards a hatchet-nosed youth a few rows behind them and was using his semaphore flags to clacks a conversation over the heads of the other students.

Conversations around the theatre came to an abrupt end as the door banged open. Vord swept into the room, followed by the librarian pushing a large wooden trolley covered in stacks of books. Vord barely looked back at the long-armed simian as he placed his papers on the desk at the front of the room and surveyed the assembled students with a raised eyebrow. He waved the librarian forward.

The orang-utan took a pair of thick leather mitts out of their holster on the trolley and put them on before moving the trolley over to the first row of students. He picked up a book and gently placed it on the bench that ran in front of the seats. Spot could see the gold edging on the pages glittering as it caught the light.

Goldfish man elbowed Spot in the side as the librarian moved along the row, distributing a book to each student, and murmured something in his guttural voice. Spot stared into globular eyes for a second and then his lips stretched into something that met the technical specifications of a smile but wouldn't have fooled any observers familiar with the act itself. He nodded rapidly and said, 'I know!' then turned back to watching the librarian. Thankfully this seemed to be enough to mollify Goldfish man and spot wasn't croaked at any further.

One of the students in the second row reached out to pick up his copy of the book and yelped. He snatched his hand back and began sucking on the fingers that had touched the pages. Vord smiled and rubbed his hands together. There was a rustling on the edge of hearing as all the students edged an inch or two away from the softly glowing tomes.

By the time the librarian placed Spot's book in front of him and paused to stare at his mole, Spot was shivering with excitement. He held a hand out near the read leather cover and was thrilled to feel heat coming from it. The gold edging shimmered and Spot realised that it wasn't colouring on the pages but trapped heat from the magic in the book that caused the effect. _Fantastic._

'We need to get started. Those of you still waiting to receive your book from the Librarian will need to pay close attention so that you do not fall behind. Thank you for your help sir.'  
Spot looked at Goldfish man and saw his own astonishment reflected in the other's raised eyebrows. _You have to be polite to the librarian,_ he supposed. _He has the biggest fangs of anything in Ankh-Morpork. But that was almost… Respectful?_ A subdued 'Ook' whispered down from somewhere in the rows behind Spot. _Which worries the librarian. How interesting._

'Most of you have realised that these books are hot.' Vord's gaze lingered on the student still sucking his fingers. 'And with better results then I had expected might I add. This is a book cataloguing the varieties and uses of spells related to fire from Howondaland. I am going to use this series of lectures to familiarise you all with its contents in the wild hope that it will help you become more powerful wizards at some point in the very distant future. Any questions?'  
A single hand slowly crept halfway into the air a few yards to Spot's left.  
'Yes?'

'Well sir,' said a surprisingly deep voice. 'I just wondered when we get the beer?'  
Spot felt his Adam's apple ricochet off the back of his throat before diving for the assumed safety of his stomach. Vord's expression of slightly bored curiosity didn't shift.  
'Uh…' The voice quavered slightly in the face of such a blank silence. 'You know. The beer? The free beer?'  
Vord's left eyebrow began an incremental crawl up his forehead. A vein appeared to pulse in his temple.  
'The free beer from the clacks? It said we had to come to the lectures to get the free beer…' the voice trailed off.

All the lights in the room grew dim and every shadow clustered behind Vord, thickening him and making him loom from behind his desk. His eyes glowed and he spoke like a maddened prophet declaring the retribution of his god.  
'There is no free beer. I do not care to know how any of you came by that idea. It is not true. You will, however, find that I expect you to attend all subsequent lectures anyway.'  
A slight murmur rippled through the students.  
'You signed up for the entire series and you will see it through,' roared Vord. 'A wizard keeps his word! To other wizards; under the right circumstances and by the gods I will turn you into wizards if it kills you!'  
The light regained its former strength and Vord began to look more human again.

'Now, if there are no further questions?' Vord peered out over the students and smiled brightly. 'No? Fine, then we can begin. If you lick your thumb and forefinger first you will find that you can grip a page of my book long enough to turn. Give it a try.'  
Spot's saliva hissed as he opened the book in front of him. He found himself distracted by the sight of the librarian scurrying from the theatre with much of his hair standing on end. Spot yelped and stuck his fingers into his mouth. Unfortunately he couldn't do the same thing to stop the burning in his cheeks.


	19. Chapter 19

Vord fumed his way through the corridors outside the Great Hall toward the massive gates that separated the sanctified grounds of Unseen University from the mundane mess thronging Ankh-Morpork. The delicate agreement between the Archchancellor of the University and the Patrician of the city ensured that this was a very conditional separation. After all, every citizen of Ankh-Morpork had been promised the use of the Great Library and allowed to petition a wizard for aid. Therefore, the Gates were permitted to hold out the riffraff only on the condition that they be opened if anyone asked to come in. _And that's another thing I'll be changing_, he snarled in the depths of his mind, ignoring the shocked protests of the wizards who bounced off him like rubber balls off a polo mallet. And the lecture had started so well.

--

Vord had first noticed that the students' attention was less then expected when he had found himself incinerating the fly resting on one lad's pencil in order to wake the little fool. He pause din his demonstration of how certain witch doctors ate the sun, in fact an elaborate illusion rather then a display of power over the elements, and surveyed his students.

Most wore the glazed expression common to students the multiverse over. Behind its bleary eyed façade, the brain was able to absorb only the absolute minimum required from the information washing over it and freed the conscious to engage in daydreams. These frequently focused on the ever decreasing time separating 'Now' from 'The Pub', a formula much lauded by advanced researchers everywhere. Drool dripped in slow globs onto the desks. The sunlight piercing the dusty air was thick and heavy, dulling the senses of the sharper students. Vord had even yawned once!

All of this was solvable. Vord focused on the boy with the phenomenal mole in the third row, quill scritching furiously as he took notes and copied diagrams. The energetic attention reinvigorated Vord.

'Are there any questions about witchdoctors?' he said. Spot lifted his head and glanced around, although he clearly had no questions of his own. A few faces blinked as they shuddered out of sponge-feeding mode, trying to put together enough of what they had filtered from the lecture so far that they could ask a semi-rational question. Before any of them managed to raise an arm, Vord noticed some movement from the third row. He sniffed and raised a dramatic finger to point at the lad with the fish eyes who seemed to be waving his arms about in n attempt to be noticed.

'Yes?' His deep tones bounced off the back of the room. The light shone around him like a nimbus. The student blinked, an impressive sight with those eyes.  
'Uh. What?' asked the student, with only the faintest hint of a squeak.  
'What?' asked Vord, still posed like a prophetic angel.  
'Um.' The student sunk lower in his seat. 'What are we talking about?' He tried to pull his clacks flags off the desktop and into his lap.

The light in the room dimmed. The robes that had gathered in such impressive folds around Vord's arms suddenly looked heavy. He pulled his hand back and rubbed the bridge of his nose.  
'Have I mentioned that I will require some assistance for my research tomorrow night? I believe you would be perfect.'  
The student smiled slowly. Spot grimaced, closed his eyes and shuddered.

--

The University gates towered over Sartor Square like black stones that might inspire thought in lesser creatures. Beneath them the grasping, shouting, stabbing commerce of one of the cities many markets jostled for position. Instead of bones being hefted with hackle raising shrieks and flung into a ballet of movement, coins were pressed into fleshy palms with surprising vigour. The gates shook and then groaned rapidly open and Vord stormed into the square, bowling aside a merchant selling suspiciously squishy fruit.

'Oi!'  
Vord ignored the man, who chased after him and tapped his shoulder.  
'Look mate, no harm no foul, the merchandise is awright, but you could at least fling an apology my way don't ya think?'  
Vord stopped so suddenly that the man nearly walked into him.  
'Yeah, I mean you are a wizard and all, but it's just human decency, innit?'  
Vord turned to face the man. His eyes burned like pits of lava in his face and his hands were wreathed in licking tongues of deep red flame. The merchant raised his hands and stepped away, muttering 'Well, like I said, no harm no foul. No need to fuss, we're both busy men with business to look to. I'll just, I'll just, I'll get back to the apples shall I?'  
Vord nodded, a movement which caused small flares to burst from his eyes.

He crossed the rest of the square with stall workers falling over each other in their haste to get out of the way. He barely paused to flick his gaze over the sign above the door of the Longfang semaphore store before shoving the door open and stepping inside.


End file.
